Blood on the Sand Volume 1: The Broken Crown (Revised)
by MJLCoyoteStarrk
Summary: With the broken crown comes chaos. The Winter War has left the throne of Hueco Mundo vacant and a struggle for power is about to begin. Some will fight for honor, others for love, others for power, and others for vengeance, but all will spill blood on the sand. But even as the blood flows the shadows begin to stir. The Winter War is over; the True War has only just begun.
1. Prologue

**Blood on the Sand**

 **Volume 1: The Broken Crown**

 _Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs,_

 _Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes_

 _Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth._

 _Let's choose executors and talk of wills._

 _And yet not so - for what can we bequeath,_

 _Save our deposèd bodies to the ground?_

 _Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's,_

 _And nothing can we call our own but death_

 _And that small model of the barren earth_

 _Which serves as paste and cover to our bones._

 _For God's sake let us sit upon the ground_

 _And tell sad stories of the death of kings!_

 _How some have been deposed, some slain in war,_

 _Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed,_

 _Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed -_

 _All murdered; for within the hollow crown_

 _That rounds the mortal temples of a king_

 _Keeps Death his court; and there the antic sits,_

 _Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp;_

 _Allowing him a breath, a little scene,_

 _To monarchize, be feared, and kill with looks;_

 _Infusing him with self and vain conceit,_

 _As if this flesh which walls about our life_

 _Were brass impregnable; and humored thus,_

 _Comes at the last, and with a little pin_

 _Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!_

 _Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood_

 _With solemn reverence. Throw away respect,_

 _Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty;_

 _For you have but mistook me all this while._

 _I live with bread like you, feel want, taste grief,_

 _Need friends. Subjected thus,_

 _How can you say to me I am a king?_

-William Shakespeare, _Richard II_ , Act 3: Scene 2

 **Prologue**

A cold wind howled down from the icy peaks of the Ice-Fangs, sending a chill run down Earhold's spine. He looked to the Arrancar put in charge of this patrol in the southern part of the Far North. The tall, dark-blue haired lord was the sixth son born to Lord Jaegerjaquez and hardly anyone cared for his bravado. The Lobo del Desierto had such in their ranks: the children of nobles who were not likely to inherit anything either because they were too recently born or were bastards or did something to put their family's name to shame. There were also the usual ragtag types of ex-soldiers, Arrancars too poor to pay their debts, rapists, murderers, thieves, and Arrancars who had nowhere else to go. It was their duty to patrol the northernmost borders at the Ice-Fangs as well as the western border that divided the Hueco Mundo Empire from those in the Wastes.

Many of the Lobo del Desierto preferred to patrol the North especially since the exiles in the Western Wastes were becoming more active lately. There was a rumor that Mordrath Luisenbarn, the exiled brother of Baraggan Luisenbarn, was uniting their tribes and clans. Still, the Far North had its own problems to worry about. There were the usual raids from the tribes of savages who lived north of the Ice-Fangs. There were rumors that they were also uniting under the banner of the Blood-Raven King, a banner that had not been seen in over three thousand years.

"We should head back to Everfrost," Aelahn, the third member of their patrol said. He was a short and squat male with a face that looked like a drunk had taken a chisel to a slab of stone. A hunk of iron made to resemble a nose was placed where his real nose had been. His mask fragment resembled seven bony piercings that outlined his square jaw.

"Do the dead frighten you?" Lionel Jaegerjaquez asked.

"I didn't say that, but whatever killed them does," Aelahn said.

"It was probably just another tribe of savages," Lionel said. "I bet some wilder saw a goat he wanted to fuck and killed another wilder for it. That's how these things go."

"That's not what I saw," Earhold said. "Whoever killed them didn't do it just because. They butchered the bodies and left the remains in…in some kind of design. They did the same to the yearlings."

"Well, it's a good thing that we're grown Arrancars and not yearlings."

"Perhaps one of us should go back to Everfrost and let the Commander know about this."

"No one will do any such thing. We were sent here because we received word of a group of savages making their way south. We're to follow them and…"

"And it sounds like they were all killed," Aelahn said. He was a veteran of the Lobo del Desierto who had seen combat. The scars on his face told tales of his run-ins with the savages and his missing fingers, taken by the frost, told of his brush with Lord Cold-Winds. "They won't be bothering us anymore. We should head back and…"

"And what are we to tell the Commander? Won't she be curious as to how they died?"

Aelahn didn't say anything to that. Lionel looked at Earhold who also remained silent. They both knew that the Commander would want to know all of the details. If something killed that small group then she would want to know what they found.

"I thought so," Lionel continued. "Earhold, lead us to this dead-man's camp."

"I…uh…I don't…"

"I didn't ask if you wanted to do it. I commanded you to do it. Don't think about disobeying. If you do, I will make sure that you are hunted down and treated as a deserter should be treated."

Earhold swallowed and said, "Yes sir."

He led them through the forest of moon trees, his unease growing with each step. The official name on the maps was "The Twilight Forest", but most of the Wolves referred to it as The Haunted Forest as it was close to the Haunted Tower, a place that all Lobo del Desierto shunned. Silvery leaves glittered in the moonlight and snow began to fall. Lionel held his thick fur coat closer to him, but his face was becoming red from the cold.

"Damn this wind," Aelahn said. "Lord Cold-Winds is doing his damnedest to make sure we lose a finger or two; perhaps even a nose."

Lionel grimaced as he looked at the iron nose on Aelahn's face. Earhold knew that Aelahn lost his nose not to frostbite as he claimed, but to the pox that he caught from a prostitute in Everfrost.

"Stop your whining," Lionel said, shivering. "We need to make sure that all of this camp of savages truly is full of corpses. Then we can head south, but not before. If you try to run then I will see to it personally that you're treated as deserters ought to be treated."

Aelahn and Earhold only nodded in response.

They continued their trek in silence. The only sound was the howling wind and the crunch of snow beneath their feet. Earhold held up a hand when he saw the rise that he peered over. He turned and placed a finger to his lips. Lionel nodded. All three of them got to the ground and then crawled to the top. When they reached the top, Lionel looked over the edge and then stood. He let out a bark of laughter and looked at Earhold.

"Come see this," he said.

Earhold didn't want to stand. He didn't want to see it again. Yet he didn't have a choice. Lionel reached down and lifted Earhold with one gloved hand. Earhold became afraid. He thought that he would see the corpses, hacked into pieces and then laid out in intricate designs as though they were a part of some cruel blood ritual. But what he saw was a clear opening among the trees. The only signs that a camp had been there was the smoke rising from the dying embers and the small tents.

"Your dead savages appeared to have decided to move on," Lionel said and broke out into another burst of laughter.

"That's…that's…"

"Alright, enough of your tales. I do believe that there were savages here, but they played a trick on you. They're probably hiding in the forest, waiting in ambush. Well, we're not going to fall for it. Aelahn, you come with me. Earhold, you get to scout the perimeter."

"Yes sir," Earhold said, unable to comprehend where the corpses had gone.

He made his way into the forest just on the other side of the rise. The silver leaves intensified the moonlight, casting light of its own on the forest floor. A patch of silvery-blue winter roses were in bloom, but there was no sign of any other life. He looked up to the tops of the trees and could make out the ruined top of the Haunted Tower. The top windows seemed to gaze back at him like two darkened eyes and the stories surrounding it whirled through his mind.

"Stop it," he whispered. "This is reality, not stories. There's no such things as devils."

He heard something move from deeper in the forest. The sound of footsteps on the snow caused him to stiffen. A chill ran up his spine as he felt the air behind him become colder. He readied his sword, prepared to release, but his mouth felt too dry to be able to say anything. He turned slowly and saw a yearling with cloven feet, her violet hair was tangled and he could make out the small points of three horns on her head. By all appearance she was an Arrancar yearling who had not yet undergone the maturing. But it was her eyes that paralyzed him.

Her eyes were twin black flames wreathed with fiery red and icy blue. There was no emotion in them. There was no fear or anger or joy. There was nothing.

She stared at Earhold and took one step towards him. The crunch of snow beneath her feet brought him out of his shock and he ran. He ran towards the clearing to warn the other two of what was coming. Thoughts of the stories that his grandmother told when he was a yearling filled his thoughts. Stories about the Era of Dreams and about the Long Midnight.

As he grew older he dismissed such stories as merely myth, told to frighten children. But now it was as though the stories had taken on flesh, prancing before him in all of their horrific glory. He could rationalize as much as he wanted, but that did not change the fact that he was truly frightened.

 _All true…gods help us all…all true…ALL TRUE!_

He could see the clearing up ahead. He saw Lionel coming out of one of the tents, sword drawn. Lionel turned quickly as Earhold ran out of the forest. He scowled as he lowered his sword.

"What are you doing? I told you to search the forest."

"We need to get out of here," Earhold said. "We need to go back now."

"Are you insane? We need to find those savages and…"

"WE NEED TO GO!" Earhold screamed. "THEY'RE COMING! THEY'RE COMING!"

That seemed to get Lionel's attention. He cursed under his breath and he scanned the tree-line, trying to find any enemy. Earhold knew that Lionel thought more of the savages were coming. Earhold, however, looked at the snow and at the never-ending night sky. He knew that it wasn't savages coming for them. The wind became stronger and colder, its bite piercing patches of bare flesh.

"I don't see anyone," Lionel said, turning to face Earhold.

Earhold looked at Lionel and then behind him. His eyes widened in terror. All voice was gone.

"What is it?" Lionel asked.

Lionel turned to look behind him and became paralyzed. The figure that came with the cold was tall and clad in a long black coat that moved slightly in the cold wind. His face was lined with the wrinkles of his old age. His cracked lips had no true color to them. His white hair hung down to his shoulder. His eyes blazed like twin blue flames trapped inside clear river ice.

"A human? No…not just human and not a Quincy. Wh—what are you?" he asked.

The figure replied by extending his right arm with hand open. The Energy in the air seemed to gather towards him and form a spear. Its shaft was the color of dark midnight and the spearhead shone like cold stars, blazing with white fire.

Lionel readied to release by holding his sword in front him with hands on blade and was about to begin the command when the stranger's spear pierced his sword. Earhold stared in horror as the blade shattered, as though it was made of nothing but glass.

"What…?" the nobleman asked in surprise as the spearhead pierced his chest.

The stranger allowed the Energy that made his weapon dissipate and smiled a cold smile. Earhold fell to his knees, his lower lip began to tremble. The stranger walked closer and reached down to Earhold. Earhold closed his eyes as he felt the cold touch on his face.

Aelahn knew that something was wrong the moment he and Lionel had stepped into the camp and so, at the earliest moment, he snuck away. He would say that he thought that he heard something and went to investigate if Lionel caught him. And so he went into the forest and waited. He would not go far. He did not want to be branded a deserter and so he hunkered behind a tree.

He heard Earhold shouting, "THEY'RE COMING! THEY'RE COMING!" So he looked back at the clearing. As such he saw how the stranger came out of thin air.

He could feel the rising cold wind, but unlike Earhold and Lionel, he saw the air ripple as though it was little more than a sheet of cloth. He saw the rippling take shape and become the man. Aelahn witness what happened after that. He saw that after the man touched Earhold's face a change had come over his former comrade.

The air around the two rippled and it seemed as though the entire clearing seemed to ripple just before Aelahn saw into the world that the man must have come from.

Where there was once a clearing with a few make-shift shelters there was an ancient city surrounded by a sea of swirling darkness. Tall statues rose and glowed a dull silver and the streets shone like ice under alien stars. Aelahn could make out other figures standing among the ruins. The only feature he could clearly make out of each figure were their eyes, blazing like colored flames trapped inside ice. He saw what appeared to be a block of ice and in its heart was a sword. Before he could make out any further details the sky closed again.

Earhold and the man were gone. There was only Lionel's corpse and the remains of his sword. Aelahn made his way into the clearing, unable to comprehend what he just saw. He only knew one thing.

"They need to know of this," he said. "I need some kind of proof that what I saw wasn't in me head."

He looked around and saw the shards of Lionel's sword gleaming in the moonlight. He knelt to pick up a shard or two to take back to Ever-Frost with him. When he touched one of the shards he felt as though his fingers were burning from the cold despite his gloves. He was about to wrap it into a bit of cloth when his fingers slipped on the smooth edge. The shard's edge pierced both glove and skin, drawing blood. It was as though his hand had been drenched with ice-cold water.

"Shit," he muttered. He wrapped the shard in the piece of cloth and put it in his bag. He stood and was about to leave the clearing when he saw that Lionel's body was no longer where it had been. He turned to look around, but didn't see anything.

 _Gotta get out of here,_ he thought. He made his way to the bank of snow. He would head south until he reached Ever-Frost and let the Commander know exactly what happened. He would do his duty and then he would think about what to do next.

 _Damned if I'm gonna get executed as a deserter._

That was when the hand grabbed his shoulder. Aelahn turned and screamed as Lionel Jaegerjaquez stared into him with eyes like fire inside ice. Lionel smiled a cold smile.

"I see them. I see they who dwell behind the cold stars," Lionel said in a voice that was cold and distant. "And you will see them too."

Aelahn ran.

 _ **The False Karakura Town, Winter War**_

Baraggan Luisenbarn, the God-King of Las Noches and Divine Emperor of Hueco Mundo, felt the protective Kido surrounding the decaying hand inside him give way. He had never thought that it would end like this. He could feel his Respira begin to devour him even before the protective Kido was half-way decayed. When the Kido did fully decay it was quick, like the released energy in a bomb. He felt the Respira tear through his body.

 _This can't be happening._

However, it was happening. He knew that he wouldn't get another chance to exact his revenge. He was a Luisenbarn and a Luisenbarn had been the one to bring an end to the Leonisran Dynasty. It was his right to rule. Now, his crown was crumbling into dust and the only Luisenbarn left would be his younger brother, Mordrath, who tried to regain the Honor and Right that Aizen had taken away from them, only to be forced into exile again.

Baraggan looked at his decaying body and then to Aizen. His rage grew as he looked upon this Usurper who stole everything from him and who had the audacity to not even look at him as he died.

 _I am the Divine Emperor. I rule all under the night sky. And you thought that you could supplant me! SUCH INSOLENCE!_

"With these hands," he snarled, "I will kill you. You will regret giving me power." He raised his axe and prepared to throw it even as his body was being consumed. "I AM KING! I AM GOD! I WILL NEVER DIE! I swear that I shall hunt you for all eternity…AIZEN!" he shouted and threw Gran Caída at Aizen.

However, before his Gran Caída reached Aizen it dissolved.

 _NO!_ Baraggan thought as he himself became nothing but dust blowing in the wind.

The Crown of Hueco Mundo fell to the ground below and shattered when it struck.

 _ **Las Noches**_

The throne sat empty. There was none to wear the crown and no one to sit on it. It had gone from being a symbol of authority to the symbol of a power vacuum. None of the Soul Reapers who went through Las Noches, seeking treasures and information to take, paid it any heed. As far as they were concern it had nothing to do with them.

The Arrancars that remained in Las Noches, however, understood what it meant. When the last of the Soul Reapers went back to their world they would send out riders and moon ravens to throughout the Empire. Word would spread and when it did Hueco Mundo would have to prepare itself for another shift in power.

 **End of Prologue**

 **A.N.: This is the reworking of the original "Blood on the Sand, Volume 1". Some things will be the same but the majority of it will be vastly different. I felt that this rewrite is necessary because of continuity reasons. I am doing the same with "Tamashi no Kiri" since "Blood on the Sand" and "Tamashi no Kiri" are part of a larger mythos and there are a lot of differences from the originals. When I started those two stories I was still figuring things out. I have since come to a better understanding of how things will be playing out than I did before.**

 **I will leave the original versions of "Tamashi no Kiri" and "Blood on the Sand, Volume 1" up, but I will not be updating them.**

 **Soundtrack (Volume 1):**

 **Opening: "Main Titles for** _ **Game of Thrones**_ **" by Ramin Djawadi**

 **The Far North: "Survive (Extended Version)" by Tom Holkenborg**

 **House Starrk: "Skyrim (Main Theme)" by Lindsey Stirling & Peter Hollens**

 **House Leonisra: "The Rains of Castamere" as sung by Karliene**

 **House Marceaux: "Assassin's Creed Rogue Main Theme" by Elitsa Alexandrova**

 **House Andjo: "Veni Veni Bella" by The Mediaeval Baebes**

 **House Rureaux: "Serpentine" by Disturbed**

 **House Luisenbarn: "Dust and Light" by Twelve Titans Music**

 **House Tuma: "The Morrow" by Michael Nyman**

 **Las Noches: "Existence" by Audiomachine**

 **Hueco Mundo: "Forces" by Susumu Hirasawa**

 **End Credits: "Until We Go Down" by Ruelle**


	2. Part 1, Chapter 1: Beneath the Moon

**Blood on the Sand**

 **Volume 1: The Broken Crown**

 **Part 1**

" _Imperium cupientibus nihil medium inter summa et præcipitia."_

 _(In the struggle between those seeking power there is no middle course.)_

-Tacitus, _Annales_ , II.74

 **Chapter 1: Beneath the Moon**

The ever-present crescent moon looked down upon Hueco Mundo, cold and distant from the plights of those who suffered beneath her gaze. Her light shone on the crystalline trees that jutted through the bone dust sands from the Menos Forest far below the Las Noches Basin. Her light shone on the crashing waves of the seas and on the serpentine rivers that wound their way through the land, creating valleys of their own. She had seen kingdoms rise and fall and powers turn like a wheel. She had seen the truth of history buried by the lies of myth. She had seen peace give way to war and war give way to peace. She saw voices rise in prayer only to be ignored by a god that was not there. She saw religions fade away like sand in the wind. She saw the good and evil present in life and did not care. She was an absolute presence in those parts of Hueco Mundo that the Soul Society mapped, and her gaze was cold.

The moon truly was a harsh mistress.

Even though Baraggan Luisenbarn was dead and the crown had not found a new head upon which to rest, life continued. But if the moon could speak she could tell what was to come: a new age of chaos. She could speak of wars that rose from the vacuum of power. She could tell of a time when there were no less than twenty kings and queens scattered throughout the lands that had been united into an Empire long ago, in an age that was now forgotten.

Yet, even in times of chaos, there were places where the chaos did not reach. There were places that life continued, uninterrupted by the events of the world beyond their borders.

It was like this at Lobo de Plata in the Northern Lands. The events in Las Noches had barely any impact on those who lived behind its stone walls. The blacksmiths were at work hammering metal into tools, and horseshoes. The lower Arrancars emerged from their stone and wood huts to work the fields as they had always done. The Master at Arms, Guerra Gordav, was in the practice yard with some of the House Guards, making them practice. Conall Starrk, the youngest son of Chancellor Lupos Starrk watched from his perch atop the stables.

"There you are," someone called.

Conall looked over the edge and saw the youngest Starrk daughter, Lyanna, starting to climb up the stable wall. She had a pouch slung over one shoulder and he was not surprised to see her dressed in a set of the stable boy's old clothes. Her mask fragment, a necklace shaped like a wolf's jaw with small fangs, shone slightly in the moonlight. Conall felt a pang of jealousy.

"I can't wait until I become an Arrancar," he said.

"Dad said that it will be pretty soon," Lyanna said as she clambered to the roof. She caught her breath and looked at her brother. "I got you something from the kitchens." She unslung the pouch and opened it. She brought out two sweet-spice rolls and tossed one to Conall who caught it eagerly in his mouth. "You know you won't be able to do that when you become an Arrancar."

"I know," Conall said, his wolf-like ears drooped. "I'm just glad that I don't have to go around on all fours anymore, but I want hands. It'll make the climbing easier."

Lyanna let out a soft snort as she bit into her roll.

"Hands are over-rated," she said as she chewed. "As soon as you get them you have more responsibilities."

"Oh," Conall said, looking crestfallen. He hated the idea of having more chores. He looked down at the practice yard and frowned. "Where's dad? He's usually at the practice yard by now to spar with Guerra."

"Dad's in some boring meeting," Lyanna said. "Some of the other lords arrived earlier along with a representative from House Schiffer."

"Huh…I wonder if he and Schiffer are gonna make up or something."

"I hope not," Lyanna said. "It would mean dumb Sarra coming back. And it would mean that Selena would have to leave."

"Maybe she doesn't have to. She could officially be father's new ward. I mean, Eldir has been father's ward for years."

"That's different and you know it. Eldir's father rebelled against the Empire. Father took him as ward so that the Old Kraken wouldn't rebel again."

Conall looked down at the practice yard and saw Eldir Korson, the heir to the Kraken Islands, come sauntering out of the main hall clad in his usual grey coat with the black kraken embroidered on his right breast. His dark purple hair hung to his shoulders and his sea-grey-green eyes seemed to laugh as though everything was some jest for his own amusement. A young serving maid giggled as she handed him his grey and pearl gloves.

Eldir grabbed her about the waist and brought her close to him. The serving maid giggled even harder and allowed one hand to drift towards his groin.

"Ugh," Lyanna said with a look of disgust on her face.

"I wonder if she knows that she's the seventh this month," Conall muttered.

"Seventh what?"

"I don't know. I only know that Eldir's grabbed six other women by their waists like that. I don't know what it means."

"Huh." Lyanna finished off her roll and licked her fingers. Conall's focus returned to the soldiers in the practice yard. He looked forward to being able to train with them. He wondered what form his Resurrección would take. He knew that a sword was the usual form, but it wasn't unheard for it to be another form.

 _I bet it'll be a sword. I hope that it'll have a wolf's head for a pommel or a wolf engraved on the blade. I hope that its command will be "Climb". Yeah, "Climb", that sounds right._

"Hey, I wonder what's going on."

Conall shook himself from his thoughts. The practice yard became filled with excitement. He watched as Harietta Olmson, Mistress of the Gates, escorted a tall and muscular Arrancar clad in white with black embroidery lining the collar and twin black stripes running diagonally from left shoulder to right hip.

Harietta was short and thin. Her hair was golden red on the right side and lilac on the right. Her mask fragment resembled a thin row of scales beneath her pale green eyes. She wore black jodhpurs tucked in silvery-grey boots and a long white riding coat with silvery wolves embroidered on the collar. Her Resurrección was concealed in a riding crop with a silver and ivory handle.

"What news from Las Noches?" Guerra Gordov asked in his gruff voice.

Guerra was tall and muscular. His bald head gleamed in the moonlight. His mask fragment resembled the upper face of a roaring tiger. His white whiskers only added to his resemblance to a tiger. The long sword strapped to his back seemed to pulse with the power of his Resurrección, waiting to be unleashed.

"Joyful news and yet sorrowful," the messenger said. "Word will spread quickly and I must ensure that your lord is the first to know."

"Of course," Harietta said. "Please, follow me. He is in the main hall with some of the other lords."

Harietta escorted the messenger to the twin doors that led into the main hall. Twin stone wolves stood on guard on either side. Conall and Lyanna watched the two enter the main hall.

"I wonder what happened," Lyanna said. "You don't think something bad happed to Uncle Coyote, do you?"

"I don't know."

 _ **Lupos Starrk**_

Lupos Starrk, Chancellor of the Northern Lands and Lord of Wolves, sat on his seat beneath a stained-glass window that depicted Beolf Starrüch slaying Fendro, the White Wolf of the Night, with his sword that was named Himmelys as it was said that the metal came from a fallen star. The other lords summoned for this meeting sat in their regular positions and he wasn't surprised to see that some of the seats were vacant.

The messenger knelt on one knee, his head bowed and his right hand pressed to his left breast. Lupos was not surprised to see the heraldry of House Schiffer, a winged woman with spear in hand, embroidered on his jerkin. Two of House Starrk's guards stood on either side of the kneeling messenger while two more waited on either side of Lupos's seat to protect their lord.

"I trust that Lord Schiffer has decided to accept our proposal to him in exchange for making certain that the peace is maintained," Lupos said.

"Chancellor Starrk, Lord Schiffer has looked over the proposal and was initially ready to refuse," the messenger said. There were mutterings at that. Lupos held up a hand to silence the assembled lords.

"It would be a shame for him to plunge the Northern Lands into chaos. Our precious wards would have been the first victims."

"He would rather avoid an unnecessary war, Chancellor," the messenger said. "He was prepared to refuse as your offer would have further diminished his authority on his own lands."

"Which are the Chancellor's lands," one of the lords said. There were more mutterings at that and Lupos had to raise his hand again to quiet them.

"So, he would have offered different terms before declaring war against his lord?" Lupos asked.

"That is correct," the messenger said. "Lord Schiffer loves his daughter and would make sure that no harm came to her. He made certain that diplomacy was always at the forefront as a course of action because of it."

"Yet he would betray me and declare himself Chancellor," Lupos said. "The other regions may have more than one Chancellor to them now, but the Northern Lands will always have one Chancellor. He needs to agree to cease his claim to the Chancellery or else these negotiations may fall apart."

"He is prepared to do so, but some of the other lords do not wish him to. They fear reprisals."

"Then their fears will become reality," Lupos said. "Loyalty is what is needed. Loyalty to the old ways and loyalty to the Throne in Las Noches."

"Would you really have us serve a Shinigami?" one of the other lords asked. "He usurped the throne and therefore has no right to demand obedience from us."

"I am loyal to the Throne," Lupos said again. "I did not say that I was loyal to the Usurper. It's as you said, he's a Shinigami and therefore has no authority over these lands. Yet, the Emperor is forced to serve him and I serve the Emperor. But someday, the Emperor will overthrow the Usurper and reclaim his rightful place on the Throne."

The assembled lords applauded and some gave cheers at that. The messenger was about to say something when the doors opened. Lupos and the other lords looked at the double moon-wood doors and saw an Arrancar running, clutching a letter.

"What is the meaning of this?" one of the lords asked as he stood to block the messenger's progress.

"A…a message…from…from Las Noches," the messenger panted. He held up the letter so that they could see the seal. It was merely a crescent moon stamped into white wax.

"Approach," Lupos said. The messenger approached, keeping his head bowed. When he was close enough he held out the envelope. One of the two guards standing next to Lupos took it and gave it to his lord. The Chancellor looked at the seal before breaking it. He unfolded the letter and looked it over.

"Are you sure of this?" he asked.

"I came from Las Noches, Chancellor Starrk. Other riders and even the lunar ravens were sent out."

Lupos stood and looked at Lord Schiffer's messenger. He wondered if he should inform the messenger or not. It took a few moments of thought before he made his decision. "Go tell your lord that things have changed. Tell him that if he agrees to meet with me in person then there will be no need for war. You are dismissed."

Lord Schiffer's messenger nodded before standing to take his leave. He looked at the messenger from Las Noches, curious as to what news he brought, but knew better than to ask. He had a task to do.

When the doors closed again Lupos looked at the assembled lords and sighed.

"The Usurper has been overthrown," he said. There were bursts of applause and cheers at the news. Yet some of the lords did not partake in the celebrations. Lupos let out a small burst of Reiatsu and the other lords took immediate notice. Those who stood in celebration sat down again and all eyes turned towards him again.

"The Usurper has been overthrown, not by Arrancars but by the Shinigami. He went to war against his own kind and… It pains me to say that the Emperor is dead."

 _ **Artur Leonisra**_

Artur Leonisra, eldest son of Riccar Leonisra, Chancellor of the Golden Waters, sat in the moon garden at Rugido. He listened to the sound of the river lapping against the banks and the shouts of the rivermen as they loaded their boats with goods to be delivered along the Silver River and the Dividing River. He twisted the gold lion head ring on his finger, watching the ruby eyes glitter in the moonlight. Strands of his platinum white hair hung over his golden eyes that sparkled with green flecks. His mask fragment were twin feline fangs that wrapped around his neck with the points meeting just below his Adam's apple.

He wore a red shirt with gold embroidery tucked into a pair of white pants. His black boots shone with polish and the golden buckle of his brown leather belt shone.

"Ah, there you are."

He turned and stood. The woman coming towards him had long, flowing golden hair that matched her eyes. She wore a dark blue gown embroidered with silvery ivy leaves. The broach of a silver double-headed eagle shone in the moonlight, but her gold necklace displayed a roaring lion crowned with a laurel of emerald chips. Her mask fragment was a delicate circlet with twin fangs tracing her temples.

"Lady Marceaux," he said and bowed.

"Oh please, none of that, brother. I was hoping to get a chance to see you."

"Well, here I am, Clarice. Where are your children?"

"Oh, Felix thought it best if they stayed home."

"I suppose that they do need to learn how to run things in his mountain fort."

"I suppose so, especially ever since he got word from Las Noches. Can you believe that they decided to send him a moon raven and not an actual Arrancar? It's absurd."

"Sister, Felix Marceaux is not a Chancellor."

"He might as well be. He married me didn't he? So why isn't he Chancellor of the Eastern Mountains?"

"Come now, you know why. He married into the Blood, but he isn't really of the Blood."

"That won't matter. He may not be of the Blood, but our children are. I'm sure that's what he's talking to Father about."

"So, does that mean that he intends to actually do it? I mean, now that the old bag of bones is dead and his brother lost any right to inheriting the damn thing since he's in exile."

"Of course he does. Every time he went to see that bag of bones who sat on that damn thing before he wanted it. I'm sure that with the renovating that the Usurper did only made his desire all the greater."

"If the Council does convene, I wonder what the other Houses will have to say. He's lucky that he even got to be placed on the Council."

"He would have got on it even if he didn't marry me. It seems as if blood is not as important as it once was."

"Speaking of blood," Artur said and looked around to make sure that no one could hear. He got closer to his sister. "Father suspects."

"What?" Clarice asked, her face paled. "How could he?"

"He's not blind and he's not stupid. The only reason why he doesn't say anything is because he's not entirely certain."

"Can't you do something?"

"I can only keep it secret for so long. If Father does approach me about it then I don't think that I'll be able to lie."

"You must. If anyone finds out…"

"Then you need to end it. End it now. If you do then you can still have a chance to save yourself and your children. Father may remain silent because he loves his family's name, but I'm telling you this because I love you. You're my sister and I will do whatever it takes to protect you."

Clarice looked at Artur in thought and smiled.

"I can take care of myself."

"Are you sure, Clarice? Can you take care of yourself?"

"I've gotten this far without my darling husband suspecting. So long as I play the obedient and loving wife then he'll have no reason to suspect."

 _ **William Bosque**_

William Bosque, called "The Wolf's Bastard" in mockery, polished the practice swords. He was merely a common foot soldier in the eyes of House Starrk's officers, and having Starrk blood meant nothing. The only thing that mattered was the name Bosque that branded him as a disgrace. His very presence was a reminder of his father's failure as a husband to keep his vows of faithfulness. Yet most of the Starrk soldiers didn't seem to mind his presence.

He brushed aside a strand of black hair that fell in front of his light blue eyes.

"There you are."

William looked up and saw two young Arrancars walking towards him. One was followed by a wolf that came up to his waist. Both were clad in matching coats of tanned hides lined with silvery white fur. Their hair was dark brown but their eyes were different. Edvarrd Starrk, the eldest son of Lupos Starrk, had his father's dark blue eyes. Edmonn Starrk, the second-born son, had his mother's grey-green eyes and the hair of his chin-beard was fiery red.

"What can I do for you, my lords?" William said as he stood and bowed. The large wolf approached him and sniffed. William smiled and began to rub the wolf's soft fur. "Hello, Vulfolaic."

"Enough with the formalities," Edmonn said as he put a hand on William's shoulder and then brought him into a half hug. "We're brothers."

"Yeah," Edvarrd said as he picked up one of the practice swords. "Why can't we visit our sulking brother?"

"Who said that I was sulking?"

"I don't know. You were cleaning that blade a little too much. Were you trying to scrub a layer of steel off with the rust?"

William threw the rag at Edmonn, but laughed as he did so. Even though he did not share their name, Edmonn and Edvard treated William as though he did.

"Hey, I heard that Uncle Jäger is going to be visiting," William said. "Is it true?"

"Yeah, the Wolves decided to give him a much needed break from his ranging. Why?" Edvarrd asked. He looked at William with some suspicion.

"Well, it's been such a long time since his last visit. I wanted to know how things were going along the border."

"Yeah right," Edmonn said. "I think that you're thinking of becoming a Wilderness Wolf."

"What makes you think that?"

"Don't take us for fools, Will. We've seen you look northward. One of the stable boys had that same look before he asked father if he could join the Lobo del Desierto. Father approved and the next thing you know the stable boy's heading north…or was it west?"

"I think it was west. They needed Wolves at Vigilance."

"What happened to him?"

"He was killed on his first scouting mission," Edvarrd replied. "Trust us when we say that when you join the Lobo del Desierto expect to be miserable and an early death. Don't expect warmth and glory, because you won't find either."

"I know. But at least I won't be a bastard."

Edmonn and Edvarrd looked at each other.

"And there it is," Edvarrd said. "So that's what's been troubling you. You're a bastard and you think that you have to live a life of misery in the wilderness. Well, you're wrong. You're our brother whether you want to accept it or not."

"I know that you're my brothers, but your father…"

"Father accepts you…in his own way. He just doesn't know how to show you."

"I'm his disgrace. That's all I'll be to him. Your mother tries to treat me like a son, but I see the pain in her eyes. She looks at me and all she could see is my mother."

"So, you know who your mother was?" Edmonn asked.

William didn't reply.

"Well, you can talk to Uncle Jäger before you make any decision," Edvarrd said. "I'm sure that once you hear what he has to say about sleeping on the cold ground and having to face savages and exiles with nothing but a knife. Who knows, maybe he even encountered the Cold-Eyes."

"Don't be ridiculous. Cold-Eyes only exist in the stories that Ol' Bakhita told us when we were yearlings," William said.

"Hey, have you ever been to the Wastes or to the Far North?"

"No, have you?"

"Of course we haven't," Edmonn said and nudged William's shoulder. "If you decide to go, then let us know if you see an Ice Maiden."

"I'll be sure to let you know, after I've warmed her up a bit."

The three laughed like true brothers.

 _ **The Renewed**_

What was this new experience?

He didn't know. All that he could think of was a flurry of words he heard that could be joined with the sensation travelling through his body. Should he call it "pain"? Should he call it "ache"? Should he call it "stiff"? Should he call it "smooth"? He supposed that the words "ache" and "stiff" could apply to the sensation.

As an Arrancar he could not feel or think or speak or do anything other than fight. He had been transformed for a single purpose: to counter Yamamoto's Ryujin Jakka. Yet even in his previous life a part of him had been aware. A part of him knew what would occur and wished to stop it, but he had been unable to take control.

 _Where am I? How did I get here?_

He couldn't remember anything concrete. There were flashes of images. He remembered a tall dark-skinned blind man named Tosen. He remembered being wrapped up and a bright light. He remembered the old Captain-Commander of the Gotei, but only briefly. Some images were clearer than others.

He looked up at the crescent moon and held up his hands.

 _Who am I?_

"Why are we here?"

"The Commander said that we should be on the lookout for other survivors."

 _Who is that? Are they friends or foe? Does it matter? I suppose it should, but do I really care?_

"I don't know. We found one where Corridor Twenty-Two was, lucky bastard."

"I know. The other stationed there wasn't so lucky."

"Don't remind me. I had to be in charge of clean-up for that mess. I still can't get the smell off of me."

"Glad I wasn't there."

"I say that we should just report to Rudobon and tell him that we won't be finding anyone else out here. It wasn't exactly…"

"Hey, I sense someone."

"What?"

"I swear, I felt someone."

He could hear footsteps coming closer to him. He heard voices raise in excitement and saw two figures looking down at him. They were clad in matching white and black uniforms and their heads were skulls.

 _Exequias,_ he thought. He didn't know why he thought of the word, but it seemed to fit them.

"Holy shit," one of them said. "It's that one the Usurper made before the eyes of the Espada. Uh…what was his name?"

Suddenly a word came to his mind. He didn't know where it came from or how he knew that it was his name. But a part of him began to remember. Images became accompanied by sounds and the scenes that played in his mind became longer. It was as though memories began to fill his mind again, but not what happened after Yamamoto killed him or how he got back to Hueco Mundo. But his name was a good place to start.

"Wonderweiss…Margela," he said.

"Summon the Equipo Médico. We have another one."

Wonderweiss closed his bright purple eyes and waited. He would let his memories come back, and he wondered if that would be a good thing.

 **End of Chapter 1**

 **Encyclopedia Imperium:**

 **House Starrk:** _One of the oldest houses in Hueco Mundo, House Starrk can trace its bloodline back to Beolf Starrüch, one of the most prominent heroes of Arrancar mythology, and a woman who was only known as the Moon Huntress (perhaps a precursor to The Huntress of the Old Ways who was eventually added into the pantheon of The Faith during its spread into the Northern Lands). The Starrks reigned over the North and the Far North for about 3,000 years and were called "The Wolf Kings" until the North was conquered by King Artur, who is called "The Conqueror". King Roland Starrk, who is called "The Wolf who bowed", surrendered to The Conqueror and was granted the title of Chancellor. The Starrks held the title of Chancellor of the North since._

 _Sigil:_ _A silver wolf on a black field_

 _Words:_ _For the Pack_

 _Alliances:_ _House Tuma (through marriage), House Leonisra (through marriage), House Andjo (through treaty), House Marceaux (through treaty), the Amazonians (through treaty)_

 _Banners:_ _House Schiffer and their banners, House Apacci and their banners, House Merryvale and their banners_

 **A.N.: Most of the characters from the original version will be kept, but there will be new characters as well. The reason why I felt that a rewrite was necessary was because some elements from the original version were running into dead-ends or were turning out to not be as important as I initially thought they would be. Since formulating the overall mythology, I realized that there were areas that both "Blood on the Sand" and "Tamashi no Kiri" had to be changed in order to maintain continuity and be more impactful.**

 **Next chapter will feature the biggest change that I've made thus far.**

 **Thank you for reading and please review.**


	3. Part 1, Chapter 2: Beneath the Sun

**Blood on the Sand**

 **Volume 1: The Broken Crown**

 **Chapter 2: Beneath the Sun**

A gentle breeze caused the thin white silk curtains to flutter and wrap around the pillars, making them resemble tall angels. False sunlight brought a false warmth to the patients lying the beds lined against a wall of alternating turquoise and cream tiles. Arrancar nurses, clad in white uniforms with black crescents embroidered on their collars, examined the patients as they made their rounds.

Francis Casa, head of the Equipo Médico, limped his way down the rows followed by a team of Curanderos. He was a thin Arrancar of medium height. His mask fragment was a pair of round-rimmed spectacles that seemed to perch at the end of his hooked nose. His narrow face was peppered with gray stubble and his cold iron-grey eyes surveyed all in his domain. His cane was made of moon wood with a silver head made to resemble a horned lizard.

"Curador Casa," one of the nurses said and bowed. Francis only grunted in reply as he took the clipboard in the nurse's hand.

"Another one found outside," he said as he rubbed his stubbly chin. "Has he been put to bed?"

"Yes sir, and some of the other patients are starting to stir."

Francis nodded as he said, "And what about those we found inside?" Before the nurse could reply there was a loud clatter from one of the beds further on followed by the sounds of struggles. Francis sighed as he thrust the board back into the nurse's hands. "Damn it," he muttered.

He hurried his steps, his limp no longer as pronounced as it had been. He could see the two patients causing the ruckus. One was tall and lanky. His mask fragment took the form of a gaping maw with sharp fangs surrounding his Hollow hole at where his left eye should have been. The other was shorter, but more muscular with bright blue hair and his mask fragment was the jaw of a great feline at the right side of his face. One of the other patients had grabbed the tall, black-haired around the waist and was trying to hold him back.

"Please, Master Nnoitora, now's not the time to get into a fight."

"Let go of me, Tesla. I'm gonna make sure that this kitty-cat stays dead."

"BULLSHIT, NNOITORA! You couldn't kill me before, so what makes you think you can kill me now?"

"I'm the Quinto Espada, and you're only the Sexta. Last time I checked Quinto was more powerful than Sexta."

"You got lucky with your rank and you know it. The only way that you can beat your opponent is to do a sneak attack. You ain't nothing more than a sneak."

"What was that? I dare you to call me that again."

"You're a sneak."

"THAT'S IT! YOU'RE DEAD, GRIMMJOW!" Nnoitora was about to fire a cero at Grimmjow when Francis hit him over the head with his cane, making sure that the silvery horns dug into his scalp.

"There will be no fighting on my ward," Francis said. "If you want to kill each other, wait until after I discharge you."

Grimmjow and Nnoitora looked at him. Their combined three eyes narrowed.

"Who the fuck are you?" Grimmjow asked.

Francis struck Grimmjow's head with his cane. "I'm your doctor. So you better get this into your thick skull. While you're here, my word is law. This is my domain, not the Espada's, not the Usurper's. While you're here, I am God."

"Kind of full of yourself, ain't ya."

Francis struck Nnoitora on the head again, causing him to yelp. Grimmjow laughed and so received the same treatment.

"You will not interrupt me while I'm speaking to you."

"DO YOU KNOW WHO WE ARE?" Grimmjow and Nnoitora shouted.

"I don't care if you're the Queen of Silk and the Sighing Maiden and offering me the fuck of my life." He struck them both on the head with the silver head of his cane as he said, "Patients in my ward keep quiet." He made sure that each word was punctuated with a strike to the head followed by a yelp of pain.

"Ow, that hurt," Grimmjow snarled as he rubbed his head.

Francis leaned towards him and smiled. "Good. If you want to leave then you better be courteous to my other patients. If you don't…" He held up his cane, making sure that the false sunlight gleamed on each spike of the silver horned lizard. "Well, I could prolong your stay indefinitely. Do you understand?"

Grimmjow and Nnoitora glared at him, but nodded in understanding. They received two more knocks on the head.

"And don't glare at me. It's impolite."

 _ **Skullak Tuma**_

Most of the chairs around the marble table were empty. Skullak Tuma looked over the latest reports sent to him from the Equipo Médico. He was about six feet tall with somewhat messy brown hair. His mask fragment was half of a gladiatorial arena helmet that covered the left side of his face. A faded ornate one was branded on the right side of his neck.

"The last messages have been sent out," Hermes Correo, head of the Messenger Brigade, said. He was a slight Arrancar with lilac hair. His mask fragment resembled two wings that covered his checks and met at the bridge of his nose. His light green eyes were restless, darting to take in his surroundings.

"Perhaps it was an unwise decision to inform the Houses," Victor Cuulhourne said. He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers together. His dark gold eyes seemed distant in thought. "They'll want to name an Emperor and they'll each name whoever can deliver the most reward for them."

Skullak looked at Victor. Victor's dark purple hair was closely cropped yet stylized and his mask fragment resembled rose thorns framing his thin oval face. Unlike most of the Arrancars in Las Noches who wore uniforms of white and black, Victor wore a dark blue coat with gold vines covered in thorns embroidered on the lapels. A rose-colored ascot hung around his throat and tucked into his cream-colored shirt. He was the Arrancar equivalent of a dandy.

"It had to be done," Skullak said and stood.

"Are you going to see how our fellow Privarons are doing?"

"I'm certain that Casa will release them soon."

"I am certain that he would prefer to release the three remaining Espada first," Victor said as he examined the rose-quartz head of his golden cane. "Otherwise the others will not be able to heal properly."

"Three?"

"Did he not inform you that they found Nelliel, the former Tres Espada? She was not demoted by the Usurper and so she is still an Espada, as if it will mean anything anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Baraggan Luisenbarn formed the rank of Espada and the Usurper utilized it for his purposes. Baraggan is dead and the Usurper is deposed. The ranks of Espada and Privaron will mean nothing unless the Houses decide to utilize them as well."

Skullak did not respond. He hated to admit it when Victor Cuulhourne was right, which was nearly always.

"How many of the Fracción remain?"

"From what I understand, of those who went to the World of the Living, Findor and Nirgge are recovering from their wounds. All of the others are dead. There is of course the majority of Szayel Aporro Granz's Fracción who we can utilize elsewhere. Nelliel's two Fracción have not left her side since she was placed under Casa's care. Finally, Tesla Lindocruz who is recovering quite quickly considering his wounds."

Skullak nodded and looked at Gantenbainne Mosqueda. He was a thin Arrancar with a thick orange afro and a thin black chin-beard. His mask fragment was a plate that resembled a pair of sunglasses with teeth and a blue star in the middle. Of the Privaron who faced the Invaders he was the only one who was not taken to Casa.

"You're quiet, Gantenbainne," Skullak said.

"I suppose I just don't have anything worth saying," Gantenbainne said. "I haven't had anything concrete to say ever since I woke and found that Soul Reaper healer hovering over me. I still don't understand it. We're their enemies. Why would they help us?"

"I don't know," Skullak said. "It could be that they were keeping to their moral code."

"I suppose. But can you see Casa healing a Soul Reaper if the roles were reversed?"

"Maybe, after he whacked them over the head a few times with that cane of his," Skullak said and smiled. Gantenbainne let out a chuckle and sighed.

"Maybe we will become obsolete," he said. "At least under Aizen we had a purpose, but now…"

"The future will always be uncertain," Skullak said. "Aizen brought us together when you think about it. And for that I'm grateful to him."

"Anyways, I'm having the Construcción remove that monstrosity that Aizen actually called a 'throne' away. The new Emperor can use whatever they like as a throne, but I can guarantee that none of them will want to sit on something that a Soul Reaper sat on. There's still too much bad blood."

Skullak nodded and shuffled the papers into a neat pile. He stood and made his way towards the tall iron doors.

"Where are you going off to?"

"I'm going to check on Casa's patients. I want to make sure that he's not hurting them too much with that cane of his."

"Uh huh, and you'll probably spend all that time with Cirucci than with the others."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'll make sure to get around to seeing the others," Skullak said and smiled as he went out of the chamber.

 _ **Nelliel Tu Odelschwank**_

The last thing she remembered seeing before darkness took her was Nnoitora falling. She had always pitied him ever since they first met as yearlings. She remembered that, unlike most of the Gilgas, Nnoitora looked frail despite his hierro. As a result, Nnoitora had been easy prey for his brothers and sisters as well as his own father.

Even remembering what he did to her and to Pesche and Dondochakka did not keep her from feeling any less pity for him. She supposed that her kindness towards him made him hate her all the more.

 _How pathetic,_ she thought. _I should have known better. I should have just let him be his own Arrancar instead of trying to take care of him._

She moaned as she shifted in the hospital bed and truly registered that she wasn't on the sand anymore. Her eyes flickered open and she saw a tall, thin Arrancar with blonde hair sleeping in a chair next to her bed.

"Oh, good, you're awake."

Nel yawned as she sat up in bed and looked at a woman Arrancar with short white hair streaked with orange. Her mask fragment was a tiara with five crests that swept back over the top of her head before meeting at the base of her neck. She wore a white uniform with a black crescent embroidered over the right breast. Her sandy tan eyes seemed to harbor kindness in their depths and a coldness deeper still.

"Who…are you?"

"I'm Maria, second-in-command of the Equipo Médico. Curador Casa put me in charge while he updates the medical records. I'll be sure that your records are updated to include recent developments in your condition."

"My…condition?"

"We found you as a little girl and Curador Casa was upset that you didn't come to him earlier regarding the crack in your mask. He said that your two Fracción were utterly irresponsible for not taking you to see him sooner."

Nel lowered her head. She wondered if she should explain that they didn't have much of a choice. Nnoitora and Szayel Aporro had laid a trap for them and they fell into it. At the time she didn't remember being one of the Espada and Pesche and Dondochakka only did what they thought was best to keep her safe. She supposed that it didn't make any difference anymore.

"Nel was with some Soul Reapers when Nel was knocked unconscious again. Do you know what happened to them?"

"They most likely went back to where they belong, and good riddance," Maria said. "The last thing our patients need is for a bunch of black clad Soul Reapers running around with swords drawn. It would be detrimental to their recovery."

"I see," Nel said. "Still, for them not to take Nel with them…" She sighed and put a hand up to her mask fragment which resembled the upper part of a ram's skull. She felt where the crack had been and her eyes widened. She looked at Maria.

"Curador Casa repaired it," she said. "Repairing mask fragments is one of his specialties. In fact, I believe that he's the only Arrancar in Las Noches who can do it."

"So…Nel's fully healed?" Nel asked, her excitement growing. "Nel won't have to be a little kid anymore?"

"It could mean it or you might revert. Only time will tell."

"Nel understands," Nel said and looked at Pesche. "Where's Dondochakka. Normally he would be here too."

"Oh, you mean the squat guy. He went to get some food," Maria said. She looked at Pesche and shook her head. "Honestly, those two refused to leave your side. Curador Casa had to beat them away with that damn cane of his just to operate on you. They must have thought that we would harm you."

Nel sat in her bed and frowned.

 _Was it really that bad? Did it get to the point with them that they couldn't really trust any of our fellow Arrancar?_

"It's sad," she said. "They became so protective that they lost any ability to trust our fellow Arrancar. You're not all like…like him."

"I see," Maria said and stood next to her. "I heard that something happened to the former Tres Espada, but I didn't suspect that you were her." Nel looked at her with alarm on her face and Maria smiled. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone if you don't want me too, but I don't think it will matter. The Exequias saw you and would have filed their report with Skullak."

"Skullak Tuma's still here?"

"Yes, and he's Warden of Las Noches until a new Emperor is crowned."

"Why not one of the Espada?" Nel asked.

Maria shook her head. "No, my dear, none of the remaining Espada would gain favor. The Usurper's gone and the Espada are no longer a powerful force. It was bound to happen sooner or later, but the days of the Espada having any authority are numbered."

"But…we were the strongest," Nel said.

"My dear, you obviously didn't get out of Las Noches much. If you had then you would know that power has a different meaning out there than in here. The Usurper…"

"His name's Aizen," Nel snapped. "He assembled us. He built this sky over our heads and gave us all of this."

"And he's gone," Maria said. "The Usurper kept us caged in here to where we are practically useless to the rest of the world. None of us here knows how to rule over an entire Empire, and the Empire is more than just what is beneath this dome. When the Houses come they will all say the same thing: you Espada and Privaron have no understanding of the Empire. You have no real authority over them because you never walked among them. Your names will not be enough to convince them otherwise. Power is shifting from blood to gold and steel."

Nel gaped at her and Maria calmed herself. "Forgive me, but I only say this for your own good. Do not lay claim to anything, not even to your own blade. You are to be like the rest of us: ready to serve whoever sits upon the Throne.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes," Nel said. "Nel's sword is for the Empire, not herself." Maria nodded in agreement.

"You best get some rest. I dare say that you may need it if things go ill."

 _That's what I'm afraid of,_ Nel thought.

"NEL!" The shout was loud enough to cause Pesche to fall out of his chair with a cry. Nel looked and saw Dondochakka, no longer clad in his Tiki mask and his polka-dotted yellow onesie. Instead he was clad in a crisp white uniform with three black stripes running down his jacket. His brown hair was disheveled and his broad face was flushed. "NEL! WE NEED TO GET OUTTA HERE, DON'TCHA KNOW!"

"Dondochakka, what's wrong with you?" Pesche demanded as he rubbed his lower back. "I could have broken my neck."

"Calm down, Dondochakka," Nel said. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I SAW HIM!" Dondochakka cried. "I SAW HIM! I SAW THE ONE WHO TRIED TO KILL US!"

"What?" Nel asked and leapt out of the bed. The white hospital gown she wore clung to her and she made to reach for a sword that was not there. "Which one?" she snarled.

"Nnoitora," Dondochakka said. "I saw him. Nel, Nnoitora's still alive and he's here."

 _ **Skullak Tuma**_

 _The Lord sits upon his throne_

 _He sits in judgment of right and wrong_

 _His scales measure our lives both short and long_

 _He gives justice to the little children._

 _The Lady tends her garden fair_

 _Her hand heals the land and ends our woes_

 _Her song heralds an end to all foes_

 _She gives mercy to the little children_

Skullak Tuma looked at the child, a young Arrancar with long silvery hair and a mask fragment that resembled two ram horns curled over her ears. Her white uniform was embroidered with dark blue falcons, the emblem of House Falconia, wardens of the Eastern Gate. She was heading towards a small shrine with a bouquet of silvery moon roses in order to honor the Winter War's dead.

"It brings back such sweet memories," Skullak said.

"It's fitting for the children to turn to the Faith in these uncertain times. It gives them some degree of comfort," Suku Rappa, head of the Construcción said. He was a tall male Arrancar clad in a yellow uniform. The false sunlight made his blonde hair gleam. His red eyes took in the buildings around him, as though he was trying to find any damage that needed to be repaired or improvements that could be made. His mask fragment resembled two triangles, one on each cheek, which stopped on either side of his nose.

"How are the repairs coming along?"

"Fine, fine," he said. "We got the hole that the intruders made fixed and we'll begin fixing the damage done to the towers and the dome after we get done digging out Szayel Aporro's remaining fracción. Most of them have already been sent to the healers, but some already took their own lives when they found out that Szayel Aporro is dead."

"Arrancars who were created only to serve their master," Skullak said. "With Szayel Aporro's death most of them will no longer have a reason to continue."

"At least we still have a reason to continue," Suku said and clasped a hand on Skullak's shoulder. "I better get back to work before the others get too far off track. You have work you need to do. You're Warden of Las Noches now."

"Until an Emperor is appointed, but… What do you think I should do?"

"You're asking the wrong guy. I'm no politician or a lord. I merely serve Las Noches to the best of my abilities. If you want advice then I suggest that you ask that pretty lady of yours. She knows the game better than I do."

Skullak nodded as they continued their walk. "I'll see her as soon as I'm done here. I merely wanted to see it." They stopped where the bright red wall was breached and Skullak frowned. "How much damage can't be repaired?"

"Underground Corridor Twenty-Two was completely destroyed and will no longer be operational. The same holds true for Szayel Aporro Granz's palace since the underground corridors underneath it were damaged to the point that the foundation is unstable. Other than that, all of the other damage sustained in the war can be repaired."

"Thank you."

"If that is all that you need then I must return to my duties."

"Then go and do your duty to Las Noches."

Suku bowed before leaving in a burst of sonído. Skullak looked down and saw that the child had gone. He brought out the electronic tablet and scanned through the latest reports. The Exequias had the breaches in the outer wall and dome secured, but the outer corridors were still vulnerable. The tall cube-like structures that marked the barracks were long deserted. Aizen's fall caused many of the Arrancars and Hollows stationed at Las Noches to return to their homes or go rogue. But what was done could not be undone.

 _Well, now I got that done, time to visit the Equipo Médico_ , he thought.

 _ **Grimmjow Jagerjaquez**_

"You're dead," Nnoitora snarled.

"Funny, I don't feel dead," Grimmjow retorted. "Maybe you need to get your head examined. I think that hole in your head severely hindered your thinking capacity."

"Ooh, such big words coming from someone with the mental capacity of a kitten."

"I'M A PANTHER!" Grimmjow shouted. He leapt to his feet and curled his fingers causing his nails to grow longer.

"Ooh, what's the kitten gonna do, scratch me?"

"I'll scratch out that remaining eye of yours if you don't stop calling me 'kitten' or 'kitty' or 'pussy'."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Please, Master Nnoitora," Tesla said from his bed. "Don't cause too much trouble or else he'll come over."

"If he does then I'll take that stick of his and shove it up his ass," Nnoitora said.

"I doubt that you could," Grimmjow said. "The only reason why you got the best of me was because you attacked me out of nowhere. If it was a fair fight…" Grimmjow's grin widened and his light blue eyes flashed with blood-lust. "Well, it would have a very different outcome. I can promise you that."

Grimmjow looked away from Nnoitora and was about to return to his bed when he saw the green-haired Arrancar coming towards them. "Whoa, who's the babe?"

Nnoitora turned and stiffened. Tesla's visible eye widened in surprise. Nelliel's eyes remained focus and her grip tightened on her sword. The healers got out of her way and some quickened their pace.

"It can't be…" Nnoitora whispered. Nel stopped and looked at Nnoitora.

"I'm only going to tell you this once," she said. "If you try to ensnare me or my fracción with one of your cheap tricks then I will not hesitate to crush you. I only held back because I pitied you, but no more. I don't know how you survived that Reaper devil, but you will not survive me if you force my hand. Do you understand?"

Nnoitora glared at her, his mouth twisted in a sneer. "If you're going to kill me then kill me," he growled. "Don't waste my time with your empty threats, Nel. I know that you won't kill me."

Nel went into a burst of sonído and emerged behind Nnoitora with her arms wrapped about his neck, prepared to twist it. Tesla looked from Nnoitora to Nel, wondering what he should do. Nnoitora looked at him and grinned.

"Tesla, don't get in the way. This is between the two of us," he said. "And I know that she won't kill me. She never could kill me, but I don't have the same hesitation. So, Nel, you better kill me now, because if you don't then I will try to kill you."

Nel remained silent for a moment and then released her hold. Nnoitora looked at her, still smiling.

"You have your work cut out for you," she said. "You deceived Nel once, but Nel won't be deceived a second time. Remember that, Nnoitora."

Nel walked away, not paying much attention to Grimmjow. Grimmjow watched her walk away and his smile widened. He looked at Nnoitora and chuckled.

"Looks like I got competition," he said.

 _ **Wonderweiss Margela**_

"Do you remember how you got here?" Francis Casa asked.

Wonderweiss lay in one of the private wards. The room itself was pure white with no decoration. The only thing that broke the monotony was the metal door.

"No," Wonderweiss said.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Wonderweiss," he said, seeking the word he wanted to use. "Room," he finally said. From there it became easier for him. "Las Noches."

"Very good," Francis said as he made a note. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Wonderweiss closed his eyes. He searched his memories, but couldn't seem to find what he was looking for. He shook his head and then he thought he could see…

"Light," he said. "Wonderweiss…I…remember…light."

"What kind of light?" Francis asked as he jotted another note.

"Cold…so cold," he muttered. "Everything's…cold…then…light. Cold light…I'm sorry. I can't really remember."

"I see," Francis said as he stood, using his cane as support. "I'll be back later to see how you're doing."

"Thank…you."

Francis didn't say anything. He poured out a slight trace of Reiatsu and the metal door opened. He looked back at his patient and frowned.

"Are you sure that you don't remember anything else?"

Wonderweiss shook his head and said, "All dark."

"Well, if you think of anything, please write it down," he said and put a thin blue book of ten pages down and placed a pen on top. "It could be that your mind's blocking it, but the dead just don't come back on their own power."

That sent a shiver down Wonderweiss's spine, but he couldn't think why.

 _ **Skullak Tuma**_

White curtains provided some privacy, but there was no real privacy. Shadows danced as the curtains fluttered in the soft breeze and healers made their rounds helping the wounded. Skullak sat reading a copy of _The Holy Star_ that his mother owned. It was interesting reading, filled with miracles and wisdom that were said to come from the holy prophets and heroes of The Faith.

Cirucci Sanderwicci slept, rolling over slightly and moaning. He closed _The Holy Star_ and put it aside as he leaned over Cirucci. Her dark purple haired clashed with the white sheets and Skullak found her even more beautiful. He brushed her spiked hairpin-like mask fragment and smiled as she smiled in her sleep, moaning a sigh of pleasure.

"I'll be back soon," he said as he got up. He kissed her forehead before stepping out of the makeshift chamber. He sighed as he walked towards the towering white curtains and pushed them aside. The expanse of the false day-lit sands seemed like an unbreakable ocean of white with the Espada palaces and the villas of high-ranking Arrancars being like brightly-colored ships.

"What happens next?"

Skullak turned and saw the skull-headed Arrancar. The empty sockets still made him somewhat uneasy despite the years they served side-by-side in mutual trust. Rudobon Chelute was clad in a new uniform of a pure white coat with silver buttons and a black belt. His white trousers were tucked into white boots. A silver crescent moon pin, the emblem of Las Noches, shone on his left lapel.

"I suppose that the Houses will come here," Skullak said as he looked out over the sand. "They'll want to name a new Emperor as quickly as possible in order to avoid chaos. Whoever becomes Emperor will need us by their side. Arrancars are warriors and the Espada have been their commanders."

"Rather presumptuous," Rudobon said. "I heard that many outside of Las Noches feel that times have changed."

"If you're afraid that the new Emperor will do away with the Espada, then you're worrying in vain. There's tradition to think about."

"Some might not value tradition as much as others. Aizen's reign in Las Noches kept us isolated from the others. I'm afraid that it might haunt us."

"Perhaps you're right, old friend," Skullak said and smiled. "But I have faith in my fellow Arrancar."

"But do they have faith in you? The Arrancars in Las Noches may have faith in you but it may not be enough for the others. The world is more than merely Las Noches."

"I know," Skullak said and sighed. "But I didn't survive just to fall by the wayside. My father always told me that I was destined for great things when I was younger. I may not know what the future holds but I have to believe that I will help shape it."

"I see," Rudobon said and shook his head. "My future is different from yours. You may be destined to rule, but I'm destined to only serve. But I know my destiny. Your destiny may change according to how Fortuna spins. She may spin in your favor or against you, such is the way it is for those who are destined to lead."

"You don't have faith in me?"

"I trust you. But you do not have the gift of foresight."

"Our futures are not written in stone. We shape them with our hands, Rudobon. We shape our own destinies."

"What would you do if the other Houses agree that you are not to lead anymore?"

"Then I will serve whoever sits on the Throne. But there is one who I will not serve."

"He's in exile," Rudobon said. Skullak nodded, but his face remained stern.

"And he better remain in exile."

 **End of Chapter 2**

 **Encyclopedia Imperium:**

 **House Tuma:** _One of the youngest of the Major Houses, House Tuma did not rise to prominence until the reign of King Mordrath, sixth of his name. Before King Mordrath VI succumbed to paranoia he appointed a minor lord named Strauss Tuma to be his High Chancellor. Little is known of Strauss Tuma, but all accounts that survive to the present indicate that Strauss Tuma was the one who drove the last King of Day into madness through his whispers concerning the lords he loathed. In many regards House Tuma's rise to fame was through cunning and betrayal. When King Mordrath VI was found dead in his bath suspicion fell on Strauss Tuma and the events of the Bloody Revolution seemed to only confirm the rumors. Strauss Tuma, along with other lords from the Major Houses, decided to kill Mordrath VI's sole child, Edvar, before he could ascend the throne. Edvar's death was among the most gruesome to befall royalty as his body was drawn and quartered. Accounts say that Strauss Tuma forced Edvar's sister to consume his manhood in the presence of his severed head before slitting her throat. It is well-known that Strauss Tuma desired the crown for himself, but his children saw to it that he inherited nothing but an early tomb. Strauss Tuma would not be the last Tuma to hold a position of authority nor would he be the last to betray his lord. House Tuma was seen by many as one of the most powerful houses, even given the moniker "King Maker" when Philippe Leonisra ascended to the throne after defeating his older brother, Henri, during the Kin War. However, 450 years before the Winter War, Jango Tuma and his wife, Leda, were murdered by brigands (some suspect that Mordrath Luisenbarn led the attack at the command of the Usurper, Sousuke Aizen). Skullak Tuma, their son, was the only survivor and is the current Warden of Las Noches, but the authority they once wielded has diminished substantially._

 _Sigil:_ _a golden helmed skull surrounded by silver daggers with blades facing away on a red field_

 _Words:_ _Strength from Honor_

 _Alliances:_ _House Leonisra (through marriage), House Starrk (through marriage), House Sanderwicci (through treaty), House Gilga (through marriage), House Andjo (through treaty)_

 _Banners:_ _None_


	4. Part 1, Chapter 3: The Dragon in Exile

**Blood on the Sand**

 **Volume 1: The Broken Crown**

 **Chapter 3: The Dragon in Exile**

Exile. The very word rankled him because it reminded him that there had been a time when he was second best. It reminded him that he had never truly been loved nor his efforts appreciated. Any chance at glory had long since departed. Or so it seemed.

Mordrath Luisenbarn stood on top of the cliff overlooking the last bastion of those who dared not bend the knee to him. A tattered crimson banner showing a whirlwind pattern of gold and black, the emblem of The Alliance, fluttered on top of the ramparts carved into the mountain. Electrical pulses from one of the Wastes larger storms filled the dark heavens. Rain fell on all. And the Dragons roared.

"The Dragons have certainly improved since the last time they were used," Mordrath mused as he stroked his thin red-gold chin beard. The wind swept through his golden hair and his long white coat trimmed with black fur at the collar and wrists fluttered slightly. His mask fragment resembled a circlet with two fangs framing his temples before curving inward just under his green eyes.

"Yes sire," Tarran Granz said. He was a tall lanky man with pinkish eyes and shortly-cropped green hair streaked with black at around the temples. His mask fragment resembled a pince-nez. The green cords indicating his rank as Commander of the Engineer Corps were kept in place on his crisp white uniform by twin golden pins made to resemble roaring dragons. "It took some time to advance the technology enough to where the strength of a cero could be magnified another five times. The Usurper's Hogyoku was a great acquisition for us."

"Yes. I wonder how many other Arrancars tried to defy the Usurper only to fail," Mordrath mused. His green eyes narrowed, never leaving the besieged fortified mountain. "And yet they think they can defy me." He turned his attention to the signalmen, waiting to signal the various divisions or other signalmen. "Signal the Wyrm Corps Third Division."

One of the signalmen nodded and fired a bright red cero into the heavens before raising a banner depicting a pale serpent with spikes of flame on its body on a black field.

"Signal the Armored Falcon Divisions to prepare to rush in. Don't give them any time to regroup."

Another signalmen fired a dull greenish-grey cero into the night and rose a banner showing an iron-grey falcon with a sword clutched in its right talon and a shield in the left. As he did so there was a massive explosion that came from the opposite side of the mountain from where the Dragons were concentrating their fire.

Mordrath raised his spear. A flaming silvery blade protruded from the mouth of a golden dragon twisting around a shaft of black wood. His green eyes seemed to blaze and his voice thundered across the valley, "THE GLORIOUS DRAGON ASCENDS TO THE FIERY HEAVENS TO REIGN WITH FIRE AND STEEL AND BLOOD!"

The Dragons' roars increased in ferocity, but now the war cries of the Exiled rose as well. Mordrath smiled.

Exile. He still loathed the word, but he was coming to accept it and even find ways to utilize it. What better way to defy the very memory of those who defied him and sent him to the Wastes? What better way to defy the father and brother who loathed him and would have rather see him die than see him emerge from their shadows? Exile would not be the end of him, but only a new beginning.

 _ **Maullarn Aivirrne**_

Maullarn Aivirrne rushed down the stone hall. Torches burned against the stone wall and he could hear the other defenders rushing to prepare for a final assault at the gates. He was tall and broad, clad in a long green coat with golden knots embroidered up the lapels and silver scorpions amidst golden leaves around the collar. He clutched his war hammer, preparing himself.

 _Those damn things never stop,_ he thought as he saw another flash of a strengthened cero strike one of the guard towers.

"We need more masks at the towers," one of the commanders said.

"How many have those damn dragons destroyed?" Maullarn asked.

"We lost count at around five hundred, sir. They destroyed the outer defenses faster than we can make repairs. Whatever those things are… We can't win at this rate."

"If you think of surrendering then I will bash your skull in and use your corpse as a shield," Maullarn said, glaring at the commander with blood red eyes. "Do you understand?"

"Y-yes sir," the commander said.

"Good, now go get some men and get some Hollows. You can kill the Hollows to use to shield the inner wall or you can open the gate and send them to attack our foes."

"We tried that tactic already," the commander said. "It didn't work. Those…those weapons slaughtered the Hollows before they could even reach our enemy's vanguard."

 _I know that, you damn fool,_ Maullarn thought as he gritted his teeth. _Still, it would make me feel better to go on the offense instead of just sitting here._

"Just do something, instead of sitting on your ass," Maullarn said.

The commander saluted and rushed off leaving Maullarn alone in the hall. Maullarn struck at the wall with his fist causing the stone to crack. The Alliance had been the most powerful force in the Wastes, many of the Exiled had submitted themselves to their laws and trade had begun to flourish. Then Mordrath came. They all underestimated him, viewing him as little more than a nuisance with some flashy toys. But Mordrath proved them wrong.

Much of The Alliance had already gone to the Dragon and many of the wealthy traders were dealing exclusively with Mordrath. The temptation of the new technology that he possessed proved to be too much for many to resist. Three of the most powerful warlords who once sat on The Alliance's council had gone over to him when they saw just how potent the new technology was.

 _Did I make a mistake not joining them?_

"Father, are you alright?"

He turned and smiled as he saw the young girl coming towards him. Her shimmering black hair was shortly cropped except for a long length at the back that was tied back with a leather cord with bits of crystal tied in the ends. She wore a dress made from the silvery furs of a large mountain bear and was lined with fine silk. A pair of twin daggers hung on either side from gold chains that were wrapped around her waist and held in place with a silver buckle studded with emeralds.

"Kaoly, I thought I told you to help protect the weak and yearlings."

"I want to fight, father," Kaoly said. "I can't just stand aside and do nothing."

"You wouldn't be doing nothing. You would be protecting those who can't protect themselves."

"There's no glory in that, father. If I'm to die then I want to die in the vanguard, fighting."

"And who would remember you? Many have died in the vanguard and can you name any of them? Can you name the butcher's daughter who died two turns of the sand-globe ago? Or how about the nobleman's son who died just an hour ago? What makes you think that you dying here would make anyone remember your name?"

"Father," Kaoly said. She glared at her father with brilliant pink eyes that peered from the twin rings of bone that were her mask fragment. "I want to fight."

"Then know what you're fighting for. If you know what you're fighting for then you can fight with all you have. But if you don't know what you're fighting for then you're only hindering yourself and your fellow warriors. You may be my daughter, but I will not hesitate to whip you if you get in the way.

"If you want to fight then you better be prepared to die."

"I'm ready."

Maullarn looked at his daughter and his eyes narrowed. "We'll see," he said.

 _ **Saracc Chelute**_

The tunnel stretched from the old mines to beneath the mountain's western fortifications. Saracc Chelute commander of the Wyrm Corps watched as the sappers of the third division finished laying the explosives. The Dragons had covered their work by having the enemy's focus turn to the eastern fortifications.

Saracc was medium height and slight build, a good physique for the tight and low tunnels that had become the domain of the Wyrm Corps Third Division of sappers during the course of the siege. His black hair shone like a raven's wing and his crimson-iris eye glittered. The band of dark crimson silk covered where his other eye would have been. His left hand was completely covered in bone plates with small horns protruding from his knuckles. His right hand however resembled a normal human's hand except for the long bone-like claws that grew out of the three middle fingers.

"The ground's still stable," he said as he looked at the dirt wall ahead and above. "Once the signal is given the explosives will go off and will collapse the tunnel just below the walls. The foundations will weaken enough to create a breach. At least that's how it's supposed to go."

"Last explosives are in place, sir," one of the sappers said.

"Then run back to the relay point. Let me know when you see the signal."

"Yes sir," the sapper said and began to run.

"The rest of you get back, I'll bring up the rear."

They obeyed his order without question. The Wyrm Corps understood the risks of being sappers, digging tunnels beneath enemy lines and building siege engines had their risks. They looked at death and saw it as a risk necessary to take to achieve victory. They would pause for a moment to remember the fallen, but then they would go to the next tunnel, the next tower, the next bridge. They would accept the risks because it was their duty.

They would serve The Dragon. They would be the wind beneath The Dragon's wings, carrying him to victory.

"Sir, the signal's been fired," a voice echoed from the dark tunnel behind him.

Saracc focused his energy to form a small orb of dark green light. It was a weak bala, but it was enough to detonate the explosives.

 _ **Petros Leones**_

Petros Leones watched the walls on the mountain's western side. The token defense force stationed there tried to fire ceros at the assembled force, but they were still out of range. He was tall and muscular, and his Hollow mask remnant was in the form of two gauntlets that covered the back of his hands and wrapped around his wrists, but not the fingers. His hair was black on the sides, but deep red along the crest of his head and was cut into a Mohawk that was tied into a tail with a leather cord. His Zanpakuto hung from a series of leather cords at his side.

Behind him the banner of the Armored Falcon Divisions, displaying an iron-grey falcon with a sword clutched in its right talon and a shield in the left on a dark blue field, fluttered. He looked over his shoulder at the twin rows of the newly formed Dragon Talons. Their faces were covered by silver masks resembling snarling dragon faces and their white and crimson coats fluttered in the growing wind. The dim glow of their moon-wood rifles shone in the night and seemed to radiate the same energy as the storm overhead.

Behind the Dragon Talons were lines of pike-men and cavalry mounted on low-level Hollows with the grey falcon painted on their masks.

"I need to kill something," he muttered as he faced forward. "Come on, where's the fucking signal? I'm getting bored out here watching that wall."

He looked up at the sky, bolts of dark purple and blue flashed amidst an oncoming swirling sea of dark green and black. He grinned, hoping that the storm was a portent of the fight to come. Siege had only made him restless and he itched to fight, but he knew better than to rush into the fray. He had done so before and had suffered a defeat, the only defeat he knew while in service with Mordrath Luisenbarn. As a result, Mordrath had punished him for his bloodlust. His back still felt the blows from time-to-time to where he could not forget the lesson Mordrath gave him.

 _"Remember, Petros,"_ Mordrath had told him after the scourging. _"You're in service to someone other than yourself. Your defeats become my defeats and my victories become your victories. In battle, discipline is far more important than blind rage and arrogance. If you give in to your fury without my permission then I will be forced to treat you no better than a dog."_

Petros continued to look up at the sky. A flare of red burst amidst the stormy sea above. Petros smiled and fixed his attention back to the wall ahead.

"GET READY!" he roared before the ground at the wall's base spewed upward, taking a length of the wall with it. "FORWARD!"

The dust had not settled and Petros could make out figures struggling in the dirt. The Dragon Talons halted and shouldered their rifles. The forces of the Armored Falcon halted in order to keep out of the line of fire.

"TALONS, BALA!" Petros commanded.

The moon-wood rifles' glow brightened and changed hue as the spiritual energy of the Arrancars merged with wood's energy. The energy flowed along the rifles' lengths until it reached the small, thin shard of crystal that focused the energy's flow into a concentrated beam of raw energy, further intensifying its destructive force. Thus a bala would have the same destructive power as a cero.

The destructive beams cut through the dust, cutting through hierro and stone. Screams were silenced as fresh screams filled the dust-covered ground. High above the storm broke.

"CHARGE!" Petros roared.

The Armored Falcon rushed forward. Battle cries rose from their throats and the Talons fired again as they rushed forward.

 _ **Kaoly Aivirrne**_

The explosion took Kaoly and her father by surprise.

"What was that?" Maullarn muttered. His eyes were wide with terror. "What devilry are they using now?"

"Father," Kaoly said.

"Kaoly, stay here. They must have breached the western wall."

Kaoly watched as her father rushed to the western side of the mountain. She turned and focused her gaze on the banners fluttering just beyond the eastern wall. She could see banners that once belonged to great lords who sat in council for The Alliance: the four roses of Lord Dussai, the twin yoked golden oxen of Lord Yorras, and the white fox with five tails of Lady Nassan.

"The gray falcon's not there," she muttered. "And I don't see…"

There came another explosion. One tower crumbled, taking with it the trebuchet that had helped to keep the enemy at bay. Another explosion burst from the top of the other tower. Kaoly looked up and saw four winged beasts with long, thin beaks and brilliant purple wings flying overhead.

 _Flyers,_ she thought in horror. _How did they get flyers?_

She watched in horror as the riders on the beasts' backs, clad in thin leather jerkins, drop explosives on the defenses from above. The defenders ran, some tried to shoot the beasts from the sky, but their ceros and balas were too weak to reach them. Some defenders released and were more successful, but more flyers were filling the sky now.

"OH SHIT!" one of the defenders shouted from on top of the wall before it was reduced to rubble.

Kaoly returned her attention to the gate and she fell to her knees when she saw a new weapon from The Dragon's arsenal.

She could now see a rank of metal machines that were modeled after the Mark V tank approaching. Lengths of moon-wood from the crystalline groves gleamed from their turrets. Behind them rows of the enemy forces advanced, the banner of the black dragon fluttered in the storm. The Dragons continued to roar, this time aiming for the defenses higher up the mountain. The rank of metal machines swept away the majority of the remaining defenses well before they were within range of the defenders' weapons or ceros.

 _We lost,_ she thought. Tears fell down her face. _The Alliance is finished._

 _ **The Breach**_

Battle is chaos. Even when the ranks are lined in orderly fashion chaos lies underneath. Organized fighting is reduced to brawls. Earth is shattered and blood stains the stones in streaks and blotches, with no true design. Bodies sprawled over rubble where they fell, creating a tableau worthy of Pieter Bruegel the Elder.

Carrion eaters gather at the breach even as the fighting continues to gorge on the feast laid out before them. The stones tremble as more explosions go off from within the mountain.

The storm above breaks. Lightning strikes the earth and thunder adds its sounds to the tumult of battle. The metal rods placed at intervals among The Dragon's ranks lure the bolts to them so that they would not interfere the army's advance. But the defenders have no such preparations for them.

One small group of defenders, still standing in the initial breach scatters when bolts of lightning strike in their midst. Their forces buckle from the forces of nature and the Armored Falcon. They give one last gasp of effort to try to seal the breach, but then scatter. The Armored Falcon's pike-men surge forward as the Dragon Talons continue to fire their enhanced ceros and balas at the defenders. Their commander tries to rally his troops, eager to give one last charge worthy of the insanity of the Light Brigade only to have his vain-glorious brains paint the stones.

From among the ranks a voice starts to sing and more voices join in.

 _We'll drink the ale 'til cup is dry_

 _And kiss our gals so they'll not cry_

 _For we ride away in the storm_

 _To dance with the God of Carrion_

 _We'll dandle our gals so they may sigh_

 _We'll laugh and fight though we die_

 _For we ride away in the storm_

 _To dance with the God of Carrion_

 _We'll toss the dice though it may be ill_

 _We'll laugh at our fate as we kill_

 _For we ride away in the storm_

 _To spit in the eyes of the God of Carrion_

The storm continues and the soldiers overwhelm the defenders who surrender in ever-increasing numbers. Flags of surrender rise as trumpets of victory sound.

Chaos gives way to order once more. The Dragon claims another victory.

 _ **Maullarn Aivirrne**_

Maullarn stood with the ten other surviving commanders and lords in the assembly hall. Fire burned in the great basins that were carved into the walls. High-Lord Augustus Greeves sat in an ornate chair made of carved stone on the dais with the banners of The Alliance, depicting three golden hammers on a blue field, hanging behind him.

Augustus was clad in his best robes, golden chains of his office hung about his neck and gleamed in the fire light. His black hair was slicked back and gleamed with oil. His golden eyes seemed to burn and his hand tightened on the grip of his sword. Maullarn noticed that Augustus's other hand was clenched into a fist on the armrest.

Maullarn, like the others assembled, was surprised that none of Mordrath's Arrancars were present in the chamber. As far as he could tell the only Arrancars under Mordrath's command in the main keep were the Arrancars stationed at the door to the hall. A sense of unease filled him since a conqueror

"Do you know what he wants?" Shaddam Erasmus asked.

Maullarn looked at the thin man clad in a purple silk coat that was beginning to tear at the seams. His once brilliant breastplate looked dented in places and was caked with dirt. His white and indigo hair was disheveled and his orange eyes flicked nervously around them. Maullarn never liked Shaddam who was a braggart and a swindler, but Shaddam had stood his ground during the fighting. Maullarn had to give him credit for doing that much at least.

"He probably wants to offer terms of surrender," Maullarn replied.

"If that's the case then we may have a chance," Shaddam said, smiling. "It may be simply bending the knee and swearing an oath."

"I doubt it will be that easy. We resisted the Dragon too long for him to make it easy on us."

"Perhaps, but…"

The doors into the assembly hall opened. All heads turned to look at the Arrancar standing there. Maullarn's eyes widened when he saw their adversary standing alone clad in a long white coat with black fur trim. His spear was not anywhere to be seen.

"He's as good as naked," Shaddam muttered. Maullarn frowned. It was unheard of for any Arrancar to go amongst enemies without their sealed Resurrecciόn or an entourage of Arrancars to help ward off an attack. But Mordrath Luisenbarn walked among them with head held high and confident that he had no need of any outside aid or his true power. An Arrancar who did such a thing might as well be saying that their foe wasn't even worthy of their attention. Augustus stood, fury etched on his face.

"What is the meaning of this insult?" he demanded.

Mordrath stopped in front of the dais and never took his eyes off the High-Lord. Augustus glared at Mordrath as he drew his sword. Mordrath didn't say anything but only looked at Augustus as though studying him with his brilliant green eyes.

"Well, answer me. Why do you come before me naked?"

"Would you have preferred me to bring Siegfried?" Mordrath asked, his voice was calm and hypnotic. "Why should I bring something that I have no need for? Is this not merely a negotiation of your surrender?"

"How dare you?" Maullarn growled. Mordrath turned his head slightly to gaze at him from the corner of an eye as green as poison. "You dare insult his lordship in such a manner." Mordrath's only response was to return his gaze at Augustus.

"Why do you continue to resist? You know that it's pointless to continue struggling. Surrender to me before my fury descends fully upon your head," Mordrath said.

"You came to deceive us," Augustus said. "You may have fooled many of the other lords of The Alliance, but not me. I can see through your hollow words. You did not come here to negotiate, but to assassinate us. Well, I won't let you succeed. ENRAPTURE, CRÓTALO!"

Twin beams of poison-green spiritual energy seemed to entwine around Augustus like two serpents climbing up a tree. Augustus smiled, but Mordrath did not respond.

"I bet he's regretting not bringing his spear with him," Shaddam muttered. Maullarn smiled. He had seen Augustus release before and none of the Arrancars who defied him had survived it.

The twin poison-green serpents of spiritual energy brightened, shrouding Augustus in light. Many of the Arrancars assembled had to shield their eyes. Mordrath only stared forward, a small smile crept on his face. The hall was silent for a moment before there came the sound of rattling bones. The light dimmed to reveal a figure transformed into a giant serpent. Its twin tails ended in segments of interlocking masks that resembled the fangs of a snake. The creature wore armor of tan and black scales and the hands and arms were replaced with two long fangs that dripped venom. Augustus's face was ringed with scales and his eyes were golden with black slits.

"Do you dare defy me now?" Augustus hissed before opening his mouth and gushing a stream of venom.

The venom hissed when it hit the floor, causing smoke to rise as it ate through the stone. Those closest to the dais backed away, but Mordrath did not react.

"What is he thinking?" Shaddam asked. "Is he not afraid?"

Maullarn did not respond immediately, but a shiver ran up his spine. Whenever Augustus released his opponents would shake in terror or attack immediately.

"Why don't you answer me, fool?" Augustus released another stream of venom, this time aiming directly at Mordrath. Augustus's aim was true, but Mordrath did not dodge. Instead the poison seemed to flow around him as though it had struck an invisible shield. Lords yelled in surprise and terror and barely managed to avoid the venom. Augustus's eyes widened in terror. "How…how can this be?"

"What happened?" Shaddam asked. "How could that have happened? No force can stop Augustus's venom."

"None in the Wastes at least," Maullarn said. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Mordrath.

 _Is he really that powerful? Did he deflect Augustus's attack with just the energy radiating from him?_ The thought filled Maullarn with dread.

"You are trying my patience," Mordrath said. His voice was still calm, but there was an edge in it that sent a shiver down the spines of those assembled. "I came here on good faith, hoping to reason with you so that no more blood need be shed. Instead, you attack me."

"Why don't you die? Why don't you just die?" Augustus demanded as he spewed out more venom. The deadly green liquid did not strike their target, but only flowed around Mordrath. "DIE! DIE! DIE!"

Mordrath's eyes narrowed and his lips curled into a scowl. "The dragon will always kill the serpent," he said.

Mordrath's hand was a flash and Maullarn saw a blade seem to have sprout from Augustus's throat. Augustus clawed at the iron dragon-headed pommel. Venom mixed with blood spewed from his mouth. The assembled Arrancars could not move or speak. They all looked at the blade protruding from Augustus's throat. Mordrath approached, not minding the puddles of smoking venom in his path.

"Please…" Augustus gasped, a bubble of blood was blown from his mouth.

"To think that I would have to sully my hand on the likes of you," Mordrath said as he grabbed hold of the knife. He withdrew the blade and in one smooth motion gave Augustus Greeves a crimson smile.

Augustus's corpse fell to the ground. Mordrath turned to look at the assembled Arrancars.

"This war is over," he said. "The Alliance is done. You have your choice now. You can live or your corpse can join his. So, what do you choose?"

 _ **Mordrath Luisenbarn**_

Mordrath sat at the small wooden table in his tent reading a battered copy of Machiavelli's _Discourses_ by the light of an orb of condensed Reiatsu. The tent itself was only slightly larger than the tents his officers slept in and there was no sign of comfort. He didn't look up when Saracc Chelute entered the tent.

"That was reckless of you, sir," he said. "You could have easily lost your gamble and it would have been your head on a pike instead of Augustus's."

"It had to be done," Mordrath said as he turned the page. "Otherwise they wouldn't respect me nor would they have truly surrendered."

"What makes you think they have?" Saracc asked. "What's to keep some of them from going back to their estates to raise armies of their own to strike against us?"

"The Alliance was only as strong as they were unified. True, some of them may pose a threat down the road, but right now they're in line. We need to keep them that way and the best way to do it is to give them some measure of reassurance. Rewards do more than punishments in keeping a populace in check."

"So are you actually going to trust them?"

"I'm not that naïve. They stood in my way only because Augustus was strong. They thought that he would keep them safe and I removed that safety. If I make them feel safe then they will fall in line. Of course, they will always keep eyes out on anyone who makes them feel any safer, but won't do anything themselves.

"I'm keeping my eyes open and my wits sharp while I open my hand to them. After all, 'It is impossible to remove one inconvenience without another emerging.' In the meantime, I want you and the others to keep your eyes and ears open among them. They shall be our canaries in the coal mine, warning us ahead of time of any potential threat. If something happens to them…" He shrugged his shoulders.

"I understand, sire," Saracc said.

"Speaking of eyes and ears, what news from our own back east?"

"The usurper's been defeated, sire."

"I know that much and I know that my brother is dead," Mordrath said as he placed the book down. He picked up a leather-bound journal and pen he kept by his side and started writing in it. "What news about an Emperor?"

"The Houses will convene to decide that matter. At least that's what our sources say."

"House Leonisra will make a move," Mordrath said, "although not directly. The Mad Emperor's legacy still hangs over them and so I doubt they'll have many supporters even though they have a right. They might use House Marceaux for that.

"The Guilds and the White Bank will not move either. They will stay in their mountains to determine who proves to be the wisest investment before taking action. The other Chancellors may stir themselves, but I doubt the truly intelligent and wise ones will make a move to the throne in the open."

"They might decide to go with one of the surviving Espada," Saracc said.

"Doubtful. The Espada who survived know nothing of the Empire as a whole and the Houses know it. The Usurper kept them isolated for too long, only sending them out to hunt those who posed a direct threat to him. The very fact that they obeyed a Reaper without question hinders any possibility of leading."

"Our sources have said that some are speaking of reversing your brother's initial sentence so that you may wear the crown and sit on the throne."

Mordrath paused for a moment and then went back to writing.

"Don't trust those words. They all only know the Espada of Envy, not Mordrath Luisenbarn."

"It was a role that deceived the Usurper," Saracc said. "It permitted you to get close to him."

"While giving other Arrancars justification to call me 'villain'. My envy has not dulled my wits, Saracc. My envy has only given me the drive necessary to defy the odds. I know how the world works and my little conquest here has only increased my fire while giving something to fuel the fires of others." Mordrath smiled.

"I don't understand, sire."

"Get some rest, Saracc. Or go celebrate the victory with the others if you like. But our time is near when we will no longer be exiles, but conquerors."

Saracc only looked at Mordrath in silence before bowing.

"As you say, sire," he said.

Mordrath returned to writing in his journal. Outside the sounds of celebration filled the night, but he drowned them out. Instead, he focused his senses on the night air and the sound of the passing storm. When he finished writing his daily thoughts he put his journal and pen down. He allowed his hand to touch a small box made of moon-wood with a dragon's head carved into its surface.

 _Soon_ , he thought as he felt the power within it. _I will make my own crown as the kings of old did. I will carve my own throne. I will inherit nothing but earn everything. That's how greatness is forged._

 _Discipline in war counts more than fury._

Exile. He loathed the word, but he knew that it was not eternal. He would see to it that he would not remain an exile forever.

 **End of Chapter 3**

 **Encyclopedia Imperium:**

 **House Luisenbarn:** _One of the oldest Major Houses in Hueco Mundo, House Luisenbarn can trace their lineage to the Black-Dragon Emperor, Ancalagon Loiharn, whose empire was said to be the largest Hueco Mundo saw before the coming of the Kings of Day. During the conquest by Artur the Conqueror, the Silver-Crescent Empress Morganna Loiharn led a great host against the invaders from the far west and was the only ruler to defeat the Conqueror in combat. However, her victory proved to be a pyrrhic victory as the Conqueror's forces cut away at her empire slowly, using its very size against it. It would take two subsequent Kings of Day for the once great Loiharn Empire to succumb during the reign of Mordrath, First of his Name, when he took the Silver Empress Selena Loiharn to be his concubine and would mother five of his bastard children. As time progressed the Loiharn name changed to become Luisenbarn, the Major House from whom more military commanders and economic leaders emerged than any other House. But it wasn't until the rise of House Leonisra to the throne that they would be given the title of "Kingmaker" and later with Baraggan Luisenbarn, "King's Bane" and "Emperor". Yet Baraggan Luisenbarn was quickly defeated by the Reaper, Souske Aizen, permitting a non-Arrancar to hold the reins of power in Hueco Mundo. With Baraggan's demise during the Winter War many Houses believe that the Luisenbarns will no longer hold any position of power. Yet in the Wastes to the west a banner that hasn't been seen since the glory of Loiharn Empire during the Age of Lore has been raised by the exiled Mordrath Luisenbarn._

 _Sigil of House Luisenbarn:_ _a silver skull with a golden crown on a black field bordered with purple_

 _Sigil of Mordrath Luisenbarn:_ _a black dragon with three gold crowns on a white field bordered with crimson (Note: this sigil was also used by the Luiharn Emperors, although their sigil had the black dragon on a silver field bordered by black with four crowns to represent the four cardinal points)_

 _Words:_ _Fear Our Wrath_


	5. Part 1, Ch 4: White Wings, Black Words

**Blood on the Sand**

 **Volume 1: The Broken Crown**

 **Chapter 4: White Wings, Black Words**

The white birds flew from Las Noches as messengers used Garganta to reach the further provinces and nations across the seas. Word would spread like fire that Aizen, the Usurper, was gone. Those houses that had family or serfs in Las Noches when Aizen came would be familiar with the name, but the vast majority of the Empire did not know who Aizen was. All that they heard, if they heard anything at all, was rumor and rumor of rumors.

But word would spread.

From the fortress city of Everfrost in the Far North to the slaver cities along the Weeping Sea word would spread. And the carrion eaters would gather, ready to feast on a broken realm, while the ambitious would make their plans to whatever power was to be had.

 _ **Raella Occuldae**_

Raella Occuldae sat alone at the top of the Occuldae Tower reading the various messages that her eyes and ears sent to her. She was a frail-looking woman with snow white hair with streaks of blood-red at the temples. Her eyes were pale gold and had a glazed look to them and her mask fragment were four small, thin, white needles that seemed to grow out of the tips of her ears and the corner of her eyes.

She preferred to wear male clothing, especially long coats with fur trim and loose-fitting trousers and shirts. She never wore gowns, even to formal occasions and feasts. The closest thing she ever came to wearing formal feminine clothing was a black female power suit from Terra. Unlike much of the Hueco Mundo Empire, the province known as Oratia specialized in trade with other nations and other worlds.

The Oratian cities were truly cosmopolitan in every sense. Traders from across the Silk Sea came in their ships with fanned sails laden with jade, silk, and spices along with the priests and priestesses of their strange religion that worshiped a deity named Aihar. The sighting of Quincy traders, clad in their uniforms of white and blue, and Reapers clad in coats of black or grey were so common that they were merely another part of the crowds. There were nearly as many unmasked faces as there were masked walking the streets of the designated trade cities.

This mingling of Arrancar, Terran, Quincy, and Reaper gave Raella the perfect opportunity to receive information of what was happening in other worlds. She recorded any information she received in any number of the notebooks that lined the shelves in her chamber. When she had time she would read over the notebooks and make note of any cases of causality that she found. She believed that what happened in one world would inevitably shape what happened in another and that all events were related by cause-and-effect. By seeing the patterns of causality she was able to inform the Guilds of when and with whom it was beneficial to trade as well as give them leverage over any would-be obstacles.

In the province of Oratia information was just as valuable, if not more, as gold.

"Well?"

Raella looked up from her papers to look at her guest, a tall, well-built Arrancar with honey skin clad in dark green dyed robes embroidered with gold and silver thread. His bald head gleamed in the firelight and he stroked his long, black chin-beard.

"You seem to be in a hurry, Q'haar," she replied. "Could it be that the Queen of Silk is thinking of negating her trade agreements with us? I wonder if it's because her sovereign has heard of the rumors about Las Noches."

"I'm afraid that I wouldn't know," Q'haar said. He spoke slowly and slurred his words as was common among the Arrancars from the other side of the Silk Sea. He stroked his chin beard. "I care very little of what happens in Las Noches. It does not affect trade in the Silk Sea and along the Jade Coast."

 _True, but it could affect trade agreements should Las Noches feel the need to become involved in matters._

Raella's face remained impassive. She knew full well that the other Empires and Kingdoms had eyes and ears within the Hueco Mundo Empire and that many sovereigns had turned their thoughts to Las Noches upon word of the Usurper's rise to power, the way that the carrion eaters would turn their attention to a dying beast. Las Noches had once been the center of the universe, but with Baraggan no longer in power that center had shifted to any number of places, but Las Noches would be a jewel worthy of any crown.

"I heard that Ishamael Aizha is consulting with the Oracle of Aihar," Raella said. Q'haar gave a small jump at that. Raella smiled at that.

"Well, it is true that the Ailhil is consulting with the Oracle. But that's to be expected as there have been portents in the heavens. The Magi have read the heavens and have said that all signs point to the rise of the Blood Star."

Raella examined Q'haar's face and could see a faint gleam of sweat on his brow.

"I understand the superstition of the Blood Star being a portent of coming chaos. And as the old proverb says, 'Chaos breeds opportunity.' If chaos truly is coming then it might be a potential advantage for us to further advance our own interests in the proper circles. I suppose that the Aihlil is consulting the Oracle in order to see how best to benefit."

"Exactly. If the Blood Star truly is rising then we need to know so that we may be prepared should it befall us. Any plague or famine or war can bring an empire to its knees, and it would be even worse if it's the fall of an Emperor without an heir."

"Such things would happen with or without the Blood Star. But I suppose that it's only natural to…"

Raella was interrupted by the sound of fluttering wings. She turned just as a moon raven flew into the chamber, white feathers falling to the floor, and roosted on one of the leather-bound books on the table. It looked at her with silver eyes and held out its leg. Q'haar looked at it with interest as Raella removed the message tied to its leg. She unrolled the piece of parchment and read the message.

"White wings, dark words," she whispered and smiled.

 _Chaos breeds opportunity._

 _ **Lorran Marceaux**_

"The Usurper has been defeated by his former Reaper comrades. The Emperor is dead. I, Skullak Tuma, Warden of Las Noches call for the Houses to assemble for order and justice to prevail in determining the course of the Empire."

Lorran Marceaux, patriarch of House Marceaux, put the roll of parchment on the table and sighed as he leaned back in his moonwood chair. The Marceaux coat of arms showing a silver double-headed eagle on a dark blue field hung on the other side of the room. His shoulder length silver hair curled up at the collar of his dark blue coat embroidered with silver eagles at the lapels. His golden eyes seemed to gleam in the flickering flames of the candles.

"I'm getting too old for this," he muttered and closed his eyes. He heard a knock at the twin doors beneath the family crest and opened his eyes. "Enter."

The doors opened and a tall, thin Arrancar with shoulder-length honey brown hair and gleaming sapphire blue eyes entered. His dark blue coat was tight at the chest but flared out below the waist and was embroidered with a double-headed eagle in silver thread just over the left breast. His mask fragment was a necklace that resembled an eagle's beak.

"Did you receive a message from Las Noches, father?"

"Of course, Felix" Lorran said. "I'm certain that soon enough every house would have heard the news. Did Chancellor Leonisra receive a message while you were visiting?"

"He did, and we discussed the matter somewhat."

"I see," Lorran said and stood up. "Did you come to see me for my advice?"

"Father, I know your mind. You would tell me not to get involved, but the servants of the Usurper cannot be permitted to take the reins of power. They are unfit to rule those whom they know nothing about."

"I agree, but I would still advise you not to declare yourself fit for the throne out in the open just yet."

"Why not? We're of Imperial blood."

"And so is nearly every noble house to some capacity. The question will become which dynasty has the greater claim. Will it be the blood of Leonisra or Luisenbarn or even as far back as the Kings of Day? These things must be considered before we even think of playing this dangerous game. If you fail or if we move too soon then it could very well mean the end of House Marceaux."

"You always taught us that the greatest rewards have the greatest risks to them, father."

"I know. And a throne and crown are a high reward, and that is why more than one will go after it. It could very well be that in the end there will be no empire to rule."

"There will always be an empire," Felix Marceaux said. "And an empire always has need of a dynasty to rule it."

Lorran sighed, knowing that his eldest son's mind was made up. He scratched the right side of his sharp, slightly hooked nose that was the dominant trait of the Marceaux family. "Just be certain that you're willing to accept the risks on this one. This will be much more than a mere investment scheme or trade deal and I won't be there to help you if you fail."

"When have I ever asked anyone to bear my burdens when it wasn't absolutely necessary? I've learned long ago that when you want something done right then you better do it yourself."

Lorran nodded in approval. "Just don't be the first one to declare sovereignty in the open. Wait and see how many others will do so first. Or wait and see which laws will be invoked for the right of succession. That way you get a measure of whatever strength you have to oppose. See who will declare for them and who will remain neutral. See which laws will be invoked. Send messengers to the Guild officers, to receive their backing, for you will need coin and supplies if you are to succeed. I'll send a message to Clara, first, so that she knows what's going on before the other Guild officers do."

"Either way there will be war."

"There's always war when a power vacuum forms in any nation or time. History teaches us this and only fools think that they can change anything about it. History is a wheel of men and empires rising and falling according to how the wheel turns until it breaks. Everything that rises is destined to fall either in a whisper or in a burning pyre. There are no exceptions, not even the gods."

"A rather fatalistic view, father. And yet our words are 'Ever Ascending'."

"Words are words, not truth itself," Lorran said and smiled. "Just remember to do what needs to be done. Regardless what others think we need to think of it more as a business transaction rather than a war fit for songs. War is merely a waste of resources and we don't waste anything."

 _ **Sarra Starrk**_

Sarra Starrk and Dianna Schiffer stared at the moonstone and silver necklace in awe of the way the white stones gleamed in the emerald firelight of the roaring hearth.

"Want to try it on?" Dianna asked. Her emerald green eyes sparkled with mischief and she played with the silver streak that disrupted her raven black hair. Her mask fragment resembled a skull cap studded with pearl-like protrusions along the rim.

"Are you sure? Wouldn't your mother be angry if she knew we were going through her things?"

"She won't mind. Mother likes you."

"Alright," Sarra said and put the necklace on. She looked into one of the many quicksilver mirrors that lined the room. Her copper-red hair fell over her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face. Her mask fragment was a graceful circlet with two small wolf fangs descending along her temples before stopping near the halfway point down her ears. Her silver-gray eyes widened and her red lips spread into a grin.

"You look beautiful," Dianna said. "That necklace really goes well with the dress that father gave you."

Sarra had to agree with Dianna. The white stones and silver went perfect with the dress of blue and silver silk and black fur trim at the cuffs. She remembered loving the feel of the dress on her and the playing wolves embroidered with silver thread on the bodice. Even though Lord Schiffer had given her a new dress each week, none of them could replace this one as her favorite.

The door opened and the two girls turned to see a tall, thin Arrancar with raven hair descending to just below the collar of his dark green coat. A silver winged naked woman with a lightning bolt was embroidered over the right breast. His mask fragment was a silvery bat wing that covered his right eye. He looked at them with his silver-green eye.

"Dianna, what are you doing here?" he asked in a low, monotonous voice.

"I was just showing our guest mother's jewelry, father. Doesn't mother's necklace look beautiful on her?"

"Dianna, Sarra, you should be working on your embroidery," Antonin Schiffer said.

Sarra saw two more Arrancars standing directly behind Lord Schiffer. She couldn't help but notice that one was clad completely in white except for two black stripes running along the shoulder. The other was Sir Dayne, one of Lord Schiffer's most powerful banner-man and chief advisors, clad in a long black coat trimmed with brown fur imported from Terra. Sir Dayne looked at the two girls with his pale lilac eyes.

"Who's that?" Dianna asked.

"No one that concerns you," Antonin said. "Now go back to your room. We need the room. Go to your room and work on your embroidery. Dame Harra informed me that your work is not up to the proper standards."

"Very well, father," Dianna said and curtsied.

"Lord Schiffer," Sarra said and curtsied as well.

Before Sarra left the room she noted that ten of Lord Schiffer's other banner-men were gathered. Dianna's eyes widened and she looked at Sarra, concern filled her eyes.

 _What's going on? Why does he have so many of his banner-men gathered?_

A chill ran up her spine. Something had happened and she feared that it most likely had something to do with her father. Had an argument over a few acres of land spiraled into war? Houses had waged private wars against each other in the past over far less.

 _ **Clara Marceaux**_

Clara Marceaux walked through the streets of D'Avreaux without fear. She was clad in the black and gold robes and white ruff of a high-ranking Guild officer and bore the Congress of Guilds' seal displaying three golden rods being bound by two bolts of cloth, one green and the other white. Her mask fragment resembled a gorget that covered her throat and top of her breasts. Her Hollow hole gaped in the center of the bone gorget that she had decorated with gold leaf to resemble eagle heads. Her golden eyes turned towards the plump Arrancar clad in white and green robes walking beside her.

"Five galleys filled with spices will land tomorrow," the Comte d'Avreaux said. "We estimate that the total profit will be nearly twenty thousand livres. The Queen of Silk just sent two galleys filled with silks and furs that are estimated at ten thousand livres."

"And with the imports we received from Terra and the Reaper world this has been a profitable month for the Guilds and yourself."

"Yes, but you see, I'm afraid that the Council is thinking of demanding an increase in share."

"I would say that ten percent of the profits is fair enough."

"Yes, but you see with word reaching us about a Usurper in Las Noches…well, uncertainty and all could very well increase shipping costs and…"

"Since when does D'Avreaux have a trade agreement with Las Noches? Las Noches has not sent a representative here in well over five centuries nor have they paid off their debts. Or have you been giving credit without our consent?"

"I swear, sometimes you can be worse than a Terran Lombard."

Clara smiled at that. "I'll take that as a compliment. Speaking of Terran Lombards, the Terran envoy will be here with a shipment of some new technology the Terrans are developing…well, not so new. They already had it during their global war."

"I'm certain that it will fetch a pretty price," the Comte said. Clara could tell that he was already calculating the number of livres he could receive. "What exactly is it?"

"Computer equipment, and I made certain that their drone technology would be thrown in."

"Why?"

Clara smiled thinking of the message she received from her father and brother. If it was true then war technology would be a very profitable venture indeed. She reached into one of her robe's pockets and pulled out a gold watch engraved with a double-headed eagle. She opened it and looked at the clock's face.

"That's my little secret. All that you need to worry about is how you're going to sell it off."

"As you wish."

"Good, now, if you excuse me, I need to be somewhere."

"Do you need an escort?"

"No need. I've managed before."

Clara left the Comte and made her way through the winding streets, following the river's course. Her feet followed the road that she took many times before. Small boats made their way through the canals and she could see masked revelers clad in silk gowns and robes. The illuminators were already setting off smaller fireworks. It was the Festival of Unmasking when the inhabitants of D'Avreaux celebrated the anniversary that Emperor Mordrath II established D'Avreaux to serve as a trading center between the Empire and the Reapers. It was a celebration that still occurred even ten thousand years after the reign of the Kings of Day ended in bloodshed.

Dynasties came and went, but the might of the economic powers still remained.

 _Let others fight over crowns and thrones, but we who control trade hold true power,_ she thought.

She could hear the screams of pleasure before she saw the first scarlet-silk covered lamp. She could make out figures writhing in pleasure behind thin silk veils. The smell of roasting meat and strong wine filled the air. She looked at two males, one Terran and the other Arrancar, kissing and fondling each other in the shadows of an alley. Terran, Arrancar, Quincy, and Reaper, all had their own appetites and here they fulfilled them.

She approached one of the many establishments and saw that the fat Terran keeper was behind the oak bar serving ale and wine to the masked revelers. Masked serving maids and lads made their way through the throng. When he saw Clara he only nodded and jerked his head in the direction of the stairs.

Clara did not say anything. Instead, she scanned the meeting room and turned her attention to the stairs. She saw an Arrancar staggering down the stairs and his purple eyes were blood-shot. She noticed that he wore a white uniform with three black stripes running down the left side of his jacket and saw the signet ring displaying a single crescent moon.

The messenger was muttering under his breath while rubbing his head. Clara did not move until he was well past her and then she went upstairs. She made her way down the candle-lit hall, the sounds of sex drifted from the rooms, until she reached a room three doors from the end of the hall. She put an ear to the door and knocked.

"Enter."

Clara opened the door and saw a blonde woman put on a silk robe. The woman turned, her blue eyes sparkled in the candle light.

"Hello, Trudi," Clara said.

"Hey Clara. How was your meeting?"

"About as well as could be expected." Clara reached out and touched Trudi's blonde hair. "Was that the messenger I was told about?"

"Yeah. Apparently he was sent here to deliver a message from Las Noches to the Council of Nobles. As if they would care about that."

Clara touched the silver amulet hanging around Trudi's throat showing a five-pointed cross.

"You Quincy have such odd tastes in décor."

"He didn't seem to notice it."

"He was probably too focused on other things. He wouldn't have noticed if you decided to draw your bow."

"He would have gone out smiling if I chose to, but I am under the Kaiser's orders."

Clara kissed Trudi on the lips and smiled. "I do love someone who's discreet. Now, was that messenger not so discreet?"

"Oh he talked," Trudi said, smiling. "I'm starting to think that perhaps I didn't need to drug him. After all, men love to talk when they're happy."

"Then tell me, what did he have to share?"

"Enough foreplay. You need to pay first before you get what I have to sell. Perhaps you'll also want to give me some juicy information to give the Kaiser."

Clara's smile widened as she kissed Trudi again, this time with more passion. "You know exactly how to mix business and pleasure."

"Well, I did learn from the best," Trudi said as she removed her robe.

 _ **Selena Schiffer**_

"Target in sight," Selena whispered.

"Prepare to attack," Lyanna said.

They watched as Eldir approached, strutting as though he owned the land he walked on. Selena's dark green eyes gleamed and she smiled a mischievous smile. Her mask fragment resembled a hairpin shaped like a single bat wing. Her pale skin made her resemble one of the ghosts in one of the stories that her nurse told her as a yearling. Like Lyanna, Selena could be silent when she wanted to be.

As Eldir approached, never once straying from his usual path, the two girls poured the buckets of cold water on top of him. Eldir shouted and looked up at the walkway.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" he shouted.

"What do you mean? I thought that you krakens liked the water," Lyanna said.

"I hate cold water!"

"We though you could use a cool-down after your hot time," Selena said.

"Yeah, we didn't want you to burst into flames and fill the courtyard with your fishy smell," Lyanna said. "You should be thanking us."

"I ought to skin you and gut you like a pair of river trout."

"I'd like to see you try!"

Eldir Korson mumbled under his breath as he turned to the doorway, cold water dripped from his hair and clothes.

"Oh crap," Selena said and the two raced back into the main keep.

Servants clad in grey and black uniforms moved out of their way. An old serving maid with twin thin bone crests running along the sides of her head yelled at them while trying to keep a pile of freshly cleaned clothes from falling from her arms. They raced down winding steps only to find Lupos Starrk standing at the bottom of the stairs with Guerra Gordov. The two turned just as Lyanna and Selena came to a stop.

"Lyanna, Selena," Lupos said, his voice firm.

"We didn't do it," Lyanna said.

Lupos blinked slowly and frowned slightly. "Do what?"

"Oh…uh…never mind," Lyanna said.

"Lyanna, what did you do?"

"Well, you see, father, uh…Eldir was walking along and uh…Selena and I were taking out some of the old water and we uh…"

"We drenched him," Selena said. "But it was an accident, honest."

Lupos sighed and shook his head. "Lyanna, go to your room. I'll talk to you about it later."

"But dad, it was…"

"Lyanna, do as you're told."

"Yes, dad. Come on, Selena. We can look at that book you brought and…"

"Selena, you stay here. I needed to discuss something with you."

Selena looked at Lyanna who looked at her father, eyes wide. Her gaze went to Guerra whose stony face did not betray anything. Lupos looked at his ward, his eyes hard.

"Can't Lyanna stay here?"

"Yeah, whatever you tell her she's only going to tell me."

"Lyanna, what I have to say is just between Lady Schiffer and myself. If she chooses to divulge what I tell her then that is up to her. Now, go to your room. Guerra, escort her if you have to."

"Yes, lord," Guerra said and smiled at Lyanna. "Come along now, my lady. If you go with me without complaint then I'll tell you another story."

Selena could see that Lyanna was torn. On the one hand she wanted to know what her father had to say, but on the other she always enjoyed Guerra's stories of wars long past and ancient warrior queens who fought against monster-riding barbarians. Selena enjoyed Guerra's stories as well, but they didn't capture her imagination the way that they did to the young Starrk girl.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you what your father has to say," Selena said. She looked at Guerra and asked, "Would you tell me whatever story you tell her?"

"Of course, my lady," Guerra said, bowing.

"See you in a little bit," Lyanna said.

"See you."

Selena watched as Guerra escorted Lyanna and turned to face Lupos. Lupos sighed and smiled as he placed a hand on Selena's head.

"I'm pleased to report that your father and I may come to an arrangement."

Selena smiled, her eyes glittered. "Do you mean that…that perhaps Conall…" She trailed off, her face flushed.

Lupos chuckled a little bit. He was not blind. "Conall hasn't come of age yet. But once he does, I'm certain your father would not object to an arrangement in that regard. No, something else has happened that may end our dispute."

"What happened?"

"I can only tell you that our Houses are being called to Las Noches. It may provide an opportunity for the land dispute to be settled once and for all without coming to bloodshed. Of course, it depends on your lord father's reaction. But it would seem that I may not be forced to take your head after all."

"Well, that's a relief," Selena said. "Lyanna won't be happy though."

"Oh?"

"She was hoping that Sarra wouldn't come back."

"Well, she can't pick her siblings, but if I can arrange a marriage pact with you and my son then Lyanna would be happy to gain another sister."

 _ **Nelliel Tu Odelschwank**_

Nelliel stood in the doorway leading into what had been her Espada palace. The once polished turquoise floor of the greeting area was covered in dust and the fountain showing a rampaging centaur wielding a lance was silent. The stagnant water was dark. Pesche and Dondochakka stood on either side of her with their heads bowed.

"Nel's home," she whispered as she stepped into the palace.

"We're sorry that it's so filthy," Pesche said.

"Yeah, we shoulda cleaned it while you were still recovering, don'tcha know," Dondochakka said.

Nel shook her head and smiled. She put a hand on their shoulders and smiled.

"There's no need for that. We can clean this place up together. After all, this is your home too."

As Pesche and Dondochakka nodded and went to get rags and fresh water to clean up Nel sat on a stone bench. She traced a finger in the dust and looked at the sword at her side.

"My sword is for the Empire."

She stood up and walked to the stairs leading to the second level. She stood looking at the Odelschwank crest showing a golden ram rampaging on a crimson field. She turned and walked out into the garden area. The once colorful flowers were wilted from lack of care and the fountains were silent. What had once been an oasis was now being reclaimed by the sands.

 _How long have I been away? How long has it been since I last stood on this spot?_

She couldn't remember.

She was about to walk back inside when something caught her eye. She looked at the sand-dusted ground and saw a silver blossom of a moon rose growing between the tiles. She approached it and knelt admiring the blossom.

"If you survived in this new world, then perhaps I can as well," she whispered.

 _ **Skullak Tuma**_

Skullak Tuma stood on top of the dome watching as the towers were rebuilt. Arrancars were already raising the white and silver crescent banner of Las Noches on top of the central tower to show that Las Noches was no longer under the command of the Soul Reaper, Aizen. Four bronze basins were being raised to the top of each tower.

In the distance he could see a group of Arrancars approaching. He couldn't make out the banner just yet.

"Messengers have already been dispatched to the southern provinces," Victor Cuulhourne said. "Hermes is currently seeing to the ravens to be sent to the Amazonian tribes in the plains as well as to the Chains and to the cities along the Weeping Sea."

"So now it's a matter of waiting and preparing," Skullak said.

"Hopefully Lady Triasto will send someone to help oversee the proceedings. The Great Library of La Esperanza is a great wealth of information concerning history and law. Determination of who is to wear the crown and sit on the throne must be based on bloodline and law so that it cannot be undermined, and even then it must be agreed upon by all of the chancellors."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

"Matters of state usually are," Victor said.

"Tell me, Victor, can you see whose banner's coming?"

Victor looked in the direction Skullak was pointing. He brought out a small pair of field glasses and looked through them.

"I see a blue panther on a white field. That would be House Jaegerjaquez. We better keep Grimmjow away from them. His talk about being king was what got him evicted in the first place."

"The thought of some more Jaegerjaquez here makes me a little worried."

"They certainly are an impulsive bunch."

Skullak paused and sighed. "I need your advice."

"What is it?"

"How should I proceed? How do I know what's the best route to go? Usually I would ask, 'What would Baraggan want?' He was the last true Emperor after all. But…"

"But you're filled with doubts. That's understandable. You're a military leader, not a statesman. You're not familiar with Arrancar law of succession. I can tell you this much, there are approximately fifty different codes that deal directly with succession and ten times that many that deal with it indirectly. And they're all different. Some look at succession of land while others at titles. Others look at succession through lineage or marriage or even divine will."

"Where should I start then?"

Victor thought about it for a moment and said, "I would go to the Archives. Tell the Archivist that you're looking for Baraggan's will and testament. He probably left something in there about what to do after he dies."

"Knowing him I bet he never even sealed them."

"The old bastard thought he would live forever. He should know better than that. Nothing lives forever."

"Still, it would do some good. I need to brush up on Arrancar law if I'm going to have any chance of holding my own with some of these houses."

"Just be careful of the eastern houses. They have fingers in all kinds of cakes and they have eyes and ears everywhere."

"Even in Las Noches?"

"I wouldn't be surprised."

Skullak shook his head. "How did it come to this? Why did the responsibility fall to me? It's like you said, I'm a military leader not a statesman. I should have studied these things as my father insisted. Then perhaps I would have a better idea of how to proceed."

"Just start in the archives. But I would be careful."

"Why?"

"You might find something that you did not want to find. I find that archives are just as dangerous places to visit as caches of weapons, but for different reasons."

"Oh come on, we're talking about Baraggan Luisenbarn. He wasn't exactly the most discreet Arrancar in Hueco Mundo."

"True, but even the most indiscreet individual has secrets that they don't talk about. Baraggan was no different. Did you really think that Tia Harribel would have been his first Empress had she accepted him?"

 **End of Chapter 4**

 **Encyclopedia Imperium:**

 **House Marceaux:** _House Marceaux originated as a family of merchants in the eastern province of Lucca, and was under the obligation of House Marrow, and would most likely have not reached their current heights of power if it hadn't been for the outbreak of the so-called "War of Love". The War of Love was the consequence of a century's old rivalry between House Moonrose and House Glorystone which reached the point of violence when Lord Augustian Glorystone and Lady Selena Moonrose ran away from their homes to marry in secret. At that time, merchants and artisans in the eastern provinces were viewed as being combatants for their respective houses and when war broke out merchants and artisans were as likely to be attacked and killed as soldiers as a means of hindering a house's ability to wage war. Since nearly half of the noble families in the eastern provinces were dragged into the War of Love the merchants and artisans decided to unite in order to protect themselves. Under the guidance of Tolomei Marceaux, the then Minister of Trade in Lucca, the artisans and merchants formed the Congress of Guilds and passed the Golden Decree, which defied the power the noble families once held over them, during the fifth moon-turn of the war. At this point the War of Love had severely crippled the noble families' authority and ability to maintain tradition that there was little difficulty for the Golden Decree to become law of the land. But it wasn't until the marriage of Tolomei's grandson, Frederic Marceaux, to Guinna Andjo, daughter of Chancellor Philippe Andjo, that House Marceaux became recognized as a noble house and it was not until the marriage of Selene Marceaux to Emperor Laurence Leonisra that House Marceaux was given the Chancellery of Lucca, one of the richest trading provinces in the Empire, after Chancellor Ancienne's death without an heir._

 _Sigil:_ _a silver double-headed eagle on a dark blue field_

 _Words:_ _Ever Ascending_

 _Alliances:_ _House Leonisra (through marriage), House Andjo (through marriage), House Gilga (through treaty), House Rureaux (through treaty), the Congress of Guilds (through treaty)_

 _Banners:_ _House Grindina and their banners, House Del Socaccio and their banners, House Vega and their banners_

 **A.N.: One of the things that I discovered while re-reading the original "Blood on the Sand" story was that I did not have that many legitimate reasons for all of the five combatants for the crown of Las Noches. In this version I'm going to spend a little more time in establishing the reasons why each claimant has a legitimate claim to the throne.**

 **Recommended Reads:**

 _ **The Accursed Kings**_ **series by Maurice Druon**

 _ **A Song of Ice and Fire**_ **series (Including "The World of Ice and Fire") by George R. R. Martin**

 _ **The Plantagenets**_ **and** _ **The Wars of the Roses**_ **by Dan Jones**

 _ **War and Peace**_ **by Leo Tolstoy**

 _ **Demons**_ **by Fyodor Dostoevsky**

 _ **Berserk**_ **by Kentaro Miura**

 _ **The Saxon Stories**_ **series by Bernard Cornwell**

 _ **Le Mort d'Arthur**_ **by Sir Thomas Mallory**

 _ **The Song of Roland**_ **(Traditional French Poem)**

 _ **Pillars of the Earth**_ **,** _ **World Without End**_ **, and** _ **The Century Trilogy**_ **by Ken Follett**

 _ **The Malazan Book of the Fallen**_ **by Steven Erikson**

 **Recommended TV Series/Films:**

 _ **Game of Thrones**_

 _ **The Hollow Crown**_ **and** _ **The Hollow Crown: The Wars of the Roses**_

 _ **Les Rois Maudits**_

 _ **Excalibur**_

 _ **Die Nibelungen**_

 _ **The Seventh Seal**_

 _ **Conan the Barbarian**_

 _ **Ivan the Terrible Parts 1 and 2**_

 _ **Ran**_


	6. Part 1, Chapter 5: Flowers of Sin

**Blood on the Sand**

 **Volume 1: The Broken Crown**

 **Chapter 5: Flowers of Sin**

The fires from Sierra Ardiente rose into the night, casting a gold-red hue on the wall of heat stone that segregated the large fiery eastern part of the island from the lush western portion. A warm breeze swept through the silver-green fronds of the golden trees adding to the natural symphony created by the four natural elements. The islands of La Esmeralda was a living symphony worthy of Beethoven and Wagner.

Luna Tristao leaned against the white sandstone wall, watching the yearlings play in the rising tide below and allowing their laughter fill her mind. Her short stature of merely five feet, petite frame, and youthful appearance made many outsiders underestimate her. Her waist-long blonde hair was kept in a high ponytail. She was dressed in a cream-white peasant blouse and sky blue ruffled skirt. She brushed her mask fragment shaped like an upside-down triangle under her left eye with a delicate finger. The moonlight glistened on the diamond stud in her right nostril.

"My lady."

She turned and saw an elderly male Arrancar clad in a long light purple coat with a rearing white unicorn embroidered on the right breast. His mask fragment was shaped like a pair of round-rimmed glasses that dug into his temples. His dark blue hair was speckled with silver.

"What is it, Kaan?"

"A messenger from Las Noches is here to see you. He claims that it's urgent."

"Las Noches… When was the last time we received a visit from there?"

"Since your grandfather's time."

"He can wait. It's not very urgent."

"I'll take him to the guest house and make sure that he's comfortable."

"Make sure to explain how things are done here. I don't trust these Nocheans when it comes to having proper manners."

"I'll see to it personally, my lady."

"Thank you, Kaan. And make sure that the messenger understands that we will only assist in an advisory capacity, but we'll remain neutral in their politics. We will declare for no one."

"I'll see to it."

"Thank you, Kaan."

Kaan bowed and made to leave, but stopped.

"What is it?"

"I wasn't certain if you wanted to be informed or not, but we received another ship-load of freed slaves."

Luna sighed and said, "Another gift from La Urraca. Honestly, La Urraca really needs to find another place to send them. We're a small nation and don't exactly have a lot of room at our disposal to house them."

"I suppose we could utilize one of the outer islands for such a purpose. Let them develop their own lives there after their trained in agriculture or industry or trade." Luna nodded in agreement.

"Anything else?"

"Only the usual petty criminal who have been sentenced to serve their fellow citizens in order to make restitution for their crime. Nothing else to concern you, although Florian would say otherwise."

"Are the people coming in with dirty shoes again?" Luna asked, smiling.

"And… How did he put it again? Ah yes. 'Leaving coffee-stained fingerprints on the pages and defiling the sacred paper with eared corners.'"

"The books should feel honored to have such smudges and eared corners. They're badges of honor for any book because they're being read."

"I've tried to tell Florian that, but those books might as well be his own children."

"Perhaps a little visit will help placate him."

"It might help, but it's doubtful," Kaan said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my lady, I have a messenger to see to."

As Kaan walked away Luna returned her attention to the sound of playing children. She wondered if their future would be bright and happy. She hoped it would for these children, but she feared that the future for the children of the Empire would be dark.

 _ **Jean Parros**_

The soft music of water fountains was accompanied by the strumming of harp strings. Colorful flowers of sin broke the silver consistency of the shrubbery. Arrancars and Terrans walked the in the labyrinthine garden of Lune d'Argent at whose heart rose a great golden fountain of nymphs and dryads and fauns surrounded by marble statues of nude dancing youths. Servants clad in pale purple chiton embroidered with three golden lilies carried silver trays of snacks and flute glasses of pale wine.

Jean Parros stood at the top of the marble stairs leading to the garden watching the others assembled for one of Chancellor Andjo's feasts with his pale blue eye. His dark violet hair was pulled back into a tail held by a silver ring. He was clad in a long white coat with lavender lace poking out of the sleeves and a powder-blue ascot. A black sash decorated with a fork of white lightning draped over his chest. His mask fragment covered the top of his head and his left eye.

 _Chancellor Andjo's outdone himself this time,_ he thought as he watched a tray laden with a roasted peacock pass, its plumes bounced slightly as the servant walked past.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Jean turned and saw a squat Arrancar clad in the crimson and white robes and the crimson galero of an Illustrado. His hollow mask fragment was wrapped around one ear and looked like a shell. He wore a chain of twelve gold disks engraved with the nine-pointed star of the Illuminated Faith. A precious stone gleamed in the center of each disk. A necklace of white and gold prayer beads hung from the gold cord tied about his waist.

"Orexis Grindina, what brings you here?" Jean asked.

"I was invited by Phayne."

"Does he want your council in regards to the Faith?"

Orexis smiled and leaned in close to Jean. Jean leaned close to Orexis so that he could whisper in his ear.

"We received word from Las Noches. His Holiness is preparing to depart."

"Is he now?" Jean asked, smiling. "He's getting old and I heard that his illness is becoming worse."

"Oh yes, and I dare say that he might not survive the journey home."

"So that's why you're here. You're wanting to wear the Crystal Tiara before its current wearer dies."

"I need the support. The other Illustrado are circling the old bastard, waiting for him to die, and each one has their own agenda. Three factions are forming among them and mine is the smallest. The Illustrado from Oratia wants to establish a second Holy City in Avreaux. The Illustrado from Jerrem want to return the Holy See to Rhona where the Faith sprung."

"And both options would severely cripple House Andjo's main revenue. Pilgrims bring plenty of gold and trade. And you're right, we need someone who will keep the Holy See where it is. But there's a problem. Only the College of Illustrado can elect a new Capataz. And they won't all be going to Las Noches, now will they?"

Orexis smiled. "What makes you so certain? His Holiness will have the College with him. His personal seal was put on the summons and the Illustrado must go to Las Noches."

"I take it that the Eastern Flame knows about this."

"Well…" Orexis began but was cut off by the sound of a staff striking the marble tiles. All eyes turned to a herald clad in a form-fitting purple uniform with three golden lilies embroidered over the left breast. He carried a white staff topped with a golden lily with an amethyst where the three prongs diverged.

"Announcing the arrival of Lord Phayne Andjo, Heir to the Seat of Fauvre and Warden of the Lily Laurel," the herald shouted.

Jean nearly gasped at the sight of the Arrancar who came striding out of the main palace. He had seen Phayne Andjo many times, but each time could not prepare him for the sight. Phayne was tall, slim and yet muscular. His crisp white uniform was richly embroidered with vines and lilies of golden thread. A purple sash embroidered with three golden lilies draped across his chest. His shoulder-length black hair curled slightly at the end and framed a handsome face that was both masculine and feminine. His gold-and-lilac eyes gleamed as he looked over the guests who applauded.

"My dear lords and ladies," he said, bowing. "My uncle will be pleased that so many of his friends have come to help him celebrate the anniversary of his ascension. To show his appreciation, my uncle has granted me leave to distribute the gifts."

The assembled nobles applauded as servants walked into the courtyard bearing trays with small purple boxes with golden ribbons wrapped around them. They paused in front of each guest who in turn took one of the boxes. When a servant stopped in front of Jean he was about to take one of the boxes when Orexis leaned over and took the box he was about to grab.

"My apologies," Orexis said, smiling.

"You really should be careful how you treat someone you need a favor from," Jean said as he took another box, scowling.

Orexis chuckled as he opened the box taking out a gaudy gold ring emblazoned with a faun surrounded by lilies. Jean sighed as he took out his own ring and put it on his finger as a sign of gratitude. Everything about it reeked of decadence and a desire to remain relevant.

 _This whole party is like that,_ Jean thought and frowned. He knew that many houses thought that House Andjo was an irrelevant house that could only waste its wealth, but Jean wasn't as certain. House Andjo got the wealth to waste from somewhere.

"Now, please follow me to the dining hall where my uncle is waiting to receive you."

The nobles chattered as they followed their host. Orexis and Jean walked together, not saying a word.

"The moment this is done I'm tossing this damn thing," one of the nobles muttered as he glared at the ring.

If Phayne Andjo heard the noble he did not betray anything, but maintained his serene smile as he led the guests inside the main palace. The moment they entered the meeting hall eyes widened in awe at the richly ornate décor. Rococo furniture stood against the curving mirrored gold-veined walls. A statue of Pan and Daphnis stood in an alcove at the stair landing ahead of the doors. Servants clad in purple livery with ornate gold thread designs. The peak of their waistcoats showed rich design of gold, crimson, and green flowers and birds. Not a single white hair of their periwigs were out of place.

"It's like being in Versailles with Marie Antoinette," one of the Terrans said.

"I find eighteenth century France to be the height of Terran fashion," Phayne replied. "It was truly a tragedy worthy of poetry. Glory brought low by the vile envy of the ordinary populace. The extraordinary need to be careful not to abuse the ordinary too much or downplay their suffering. Instead, the extraordinary need to learn how to blend in without betraying their superiority so as not to awaken the envy of the inferior."

"Spoken like a true Andjo," one of the lords said while trying to stifle a laugh.

"Your jests amuse me, Lord Aullor," Phayne said, smiling. "Come, my dear guests, the feast awaits."

They approached a pair of mirrored doors that were opened by two servants. Inside a long table was set with white silk tablecloths and dishes of gold and silver. Fluted glasses shone like crystal in the candlelight.

Jean was about to enter the room when a hand was placed on his shoulder. He turned and saw Phayne standing next to him.

"Lord Parros, I would appreciate it if you join me and a few of the others for a private dinner. I dare say that my uncle's company might not be to your liking."

Jean looked into Phayne's gold-and-lilac eyes and smiled.

"I would be delighted."

 _ **Trudi Gerran**_

Trudi watched as Clara Marceaux made her way through the crowded street before boarding one of the gondolas waiting for passengers. She returned her attention to her vanity and picked up the small roll of paper Clara had given her.

"A good trade, I suppose," she sighed and sat down. She picked up the silver watch that belonged to her father and looked at the time. She had five minutes left.

She tightened the cloth belt of her gown and walked to the door. She opened it, listening to the sounds of a brothel that never slept. She closed it and locked the door, sliding the bolt for extra security.

"You're looking good, tonight, Trudi."

She turned and saw a man clad in a long white coat with silver blue cords of rank draping over his shoulders. His thin face was unlined and his short white hair was neatly styled. He looked at her with piercing blue eyes that seemed to strip her to the bone and soul.

"You really need to learn how to knock, Griffei," Trudi said. "What if I was with a customer?"

"I know your routine, Trudi. I made sure that your Arrancar lover was gone before I let myself in."

"Are you here on the Kasier's business or father's?"

"Both. I trust that you haven't forgotten your duty to the Kaiser."

"I haven't. And I trust that father's not worrying too much."

"Father was called to a council by the Kaiser. It would appear that Juha Bach is up to something and the Kaiser is concerned."

"Ah yes, the so-called 'Almighty'. How many Quincies have actually gone over to him since he woke up?"

"A few, enough to raise concern. The last thing we need is an unnecessary war with the Reapers."

Trudi smiled. "He'll only wage war against the Isolationists. The others won't lift a finger against the Kaiser so long as he agrees to fight against Juha Bach."

"Don't be so certain. Reapers tend to protect their own if the need arises. But that's not why I'm here. I'm here because of the situation here. We heard that there might be some trouble."

"Again nothing to concern us. My resource gave me a bit of news. It would appear that Baraggan Luisenbarn is dead and the Usurper Souske Aizen has been captured."

"Interesting. So there's a power vacuum in Las Noches."

"That's right and the Arrancars in Las Noches are desperate to fill it while the Arrancars in the other provinces are eyeing their own prospects. Whether that means they'll fight for the Imperial throne or secede from the Empire altogether is uncertain."

"Aizen's coup certainly was a thorn in the foot, but in the end it might help us. What else did she tell you?"

"Well, she did say that the Guilds are in talks with certain corporations on Terra."

Griffei's eyes narrowed. "What kind of companies?"

"The military-industrial complex," Trudi said, smiling. "Along with three of the largest international banks. There's even talk of approaching the Kaiser to form a trade alliance of sorts. It would be the largest power in all the worlds if it succeeds, far more powerful than any throne or crown."

"Then I shall inform the Kaiser of this. He might be interested in returning the olive branch."

"And what of the prospect of war here?"

"Let the Arrancars fight over a worthless crown. Like you said, if this alliance succeeds then it will have the true power and power is the only thing matters."

 _ **Cirucci Sanderwicci**_

The sand glistened beneath the moonlight as the great worm moved across the sand. Cirucci clung to the worm's back, feeling slightly uncomfortable. She was used to flying with her own wings, but riding another creature was a different matter.

"I wish we had used a Garganta," she muttered.

"Thanks for inviting Nel on this, Cirucci," Nel said from her perch on Bawabawa's masked head. "I needed to get away for a while."

"Not a problem," Cirucci said, forcing a false grin on her face. "Ugh…how much farther is it?"

"Not too far," Victor replied, not bothering to look up from a copy of _The 48 Laws of Power_ by Robert Greene. "We should be there before they serve tea."

"Tea would be nice," Nel said.

"Thanks for doing this, Victor," Cirucci said. "I know that Skullak gave you other responsibilities."

"If I didn't come with you then it would probably take you a century to get there. And if we're to succeed in our endeavors then we must follow Law Thirty-Five."

"Law what?" Nel asked.

"Law Thirty-Five: master the art of timing."

"Sounds like something an ambitious warlord would say," Cirucci said.

"Who's to say they don't have a point. Skullak should have waited a bit longer," Victor muttered. "He should have sent his messages to those houses that he can trust first and then inform the others."

"Why do you say that?"

"Do you really think that all of the houses would permit him to take on the title of 'Warden' for himself? Some of the houses will think that he's out for the throne for himself."

"Now you're being paranoid," Nel said.

"Yeah, the honor of House Tuma is legendary," Cirucci retorted.

Victor sighed and shook his head. "A legendary reputation tends to fade when others aren't able to see it in action. And we've been isolated for too long. They won't trust that he means well. Many will see if he has hidden motivations in his words and even twist them to create those motivations."

"They won't do that," Nel said.

"They will. They will."

Cirucci didn't respond. She began to think about what Victor Cuulhourne said. She didn't want to believe it. She wanted to have faith in her fellow Arrancars, but she knew better. Isolation had a tendency to breed mistrust.

"We're near," Victor said.

Cirucci looked up and saw a great mesa rising from the sand. On top of the mesa was a great silver dome with a burning silvery green flame at the top. She then noticed that the base of the mesa was surrounded by great pillars and statues of male and female Arrancars.

"The Archives of Aarissia, ancient goddess of the night and wisdom," Victor said.

"Are we sure that it's here?" Cirucci asked.

"If Baraggan Luisenbarn left any document detailing his last wishes then it will be here. Not even God could keep one of the Archivists from bringing a document here once they got their hands on it. And an Archivist would have heard Baraggan's will and testament and commit it to writing."

"What if Baraggan didn't leave such a document? He did think of himself as a god," Cirucci said.

"He didn't always think so," Victor said. "He would have it written early in his reign, long before he went on an ego trip. However, if he didn't then we'll just have to look for his predecessor's, and if he didn't leave anything then we'll go further back. Regardless, we will get what we need."

 _ **Jean Parros**_

Jean took another sip of amber wine and eyed the four others Phayne invited to dine with him. Orexis sat next to him plucking bits of roasted peacock with his fingers and popping them into his mouth. A golden-skinned female Arrancar with a mask fragment resembling three interlocked stars across her forehead and silver hair sat to his left. A handsome Arrancar male with shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair whose mask fragment was in the form of twin crests barely showing through the hair at the top of his head sat to Phayne Andjo's right. He looked at Orexis who was sitting next to a Terran woman in her mid-thirties clad in an iron-gray Terran suit. The woman's platinum blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail. He looked at the case on the floor and wondered what was in it.

"Thank you for joining me," Phayne said.

"It's our pleasure," Orexis said.

"If you don't mind me asking," the golden-skinned Arrancar said, "but why did you wish us to join you?"

Phayne looked at the Arrancar to his right who only nodded. Phayne looked at each of the others and smiled.

"I'm sure that you're aware of the situation in Las Noches."

"The last we heard," Jean said, "some Reaper was in charge. After that we didn't hear anything else."

"The Usurper kept Las Noches in isolation in order to ensure he would not have to deal with too many enemies from outside. We allowed it because we had our own interests in mind," Phayne said. "Things have since changed. My uncle received a message from Las Noches."

Jean leaned forward, eager to hear what the news was. Phayne looked at the Terran who only looked mildly interested at best.

"Miss Price, I trust that you're at least somewhat aware of the situation in Hueco Mundo."

"I am aware that an Isolationist Reaper from this 'Seireitei' took over Las Noches . There was then an incident in Karakura Town, Japan involving this Reaper that proved to be a financial nuisance for us."

"Good. Then I don't need to fill you in on the unnecessary details. The Usurper did indeed wage war against his former comrades in some Terran city, but more importantly he was defeated."

Jean stood up, knocking his chair over. One of the servants rushed over and set the chair back up. Orexis leaned back, his eyes wide. The female Arrancar only took another sip of wine and wiped her mouth with a white silk napkin.

"Aizen's been defeated. Are you certain?" Orexis asked.

"I saw the message," the other male Arrancar stated. "Chancellor Andjo is also aware of the situation, but has not formed any kind of response to Skullak Tuma's request for him to come to Las Noches."

"Why would he?" Jean asked.

"Skullak Tuma, who has taken it upon himself to take on the title of 'Warden', has summoned the houses to gather in Las Noches in order to declare a new Emperor," Phayne said, smiling.

"Isolation has clearly addled his mind," the female Arrancar said.

"Indeed, Lady Elyssia," Phayne said. "However, we need to make sure that the other houses think that we're willing to cooperate."

Jean listened to Phayne's words and the gears of his mind turned, seeking hidden meanings. He smiled and sat down. He raised his glass.

"Then permit me to be the first to toast your health, Emperor Andjo."

The others, except for the Terran woman, looked at Phayne who only shook his head.

"You must misunderstand me, Lord Parros. I have no intention of declaring myself 'Emperor'. At least, not yet."

"Others will declare themselves first," the Terran said. "Earth history is filled with such things and they follow the pattern of the fall of some great power leading to a vacuum that leads to chaos and war that in turn leads to the rise of a new power. Although that pattern has somewhat altered with the course of time."

"In other words, the old Empire is dead," Phayne said. "Only a fool would think otherwise."

"Then what is your plan?"

"My plan is my own," Phayne said. "But let's just say that Fauvre used to be a power unto itself once, so why shouldn't it be a power unto itself again?"

"Secession," Elyssia said. "Declaring secession in the open before an opportune moment would unite the houses that wish to maintain a united empire against us. Of course, the other houses might not even care."

"House Marceaux would care," Phayne said. "And not all of the Luisenbarns are dead. Mordrath is still in exile, and may be dead for all we know. But she's still alive."

"How do you know that?" Orexis asked.

"I have resources. When I heard about that failed rebellion a few years back I made sure to find out exactly where she was. I've recently found out that she's in one of the southern provinces."

"Which means either Chancellor Rureaux or Chancellor Lorros is hosting her."

"But if the Disgraced Empress is still alive then she's the last Luisenbarn to worry about, right?" Jean asked.

"No. Her son may have failed in his rebellion and was hunted down to be killed, but he had a child. Whether male or female, I don't know," Phayne said. "But either way, this grand-child of Baraggan's can be used to invoke the marriage-right."

"That's why we can't afford to declare our secession just yet," the male Arrancar said. "For the time being we'll just go along with a declaration of neutrality as Chancellor Andjo is most likely to do."

"However, once we get either The Faith or the guilds with us then we'll declare our secession," Phayne said. "House Andjo will once again be kings and queens."

"Who else knows about this?" Elyssia asked.

"You assembled here and my sister. My uncle does not know of this nor do I wish him to know."

"Why tell us?" Jean asked. "Wouldn't it be better to keep this plan secret?"

"You each have your own ambitions," Phayne said. "Corrin is my closest confidant," he said gesturing to the Arrancar sitting next to him, "and he agreed to have the three of you know. Miss Price is here on other business that does relate to this."

"But not officially," Miss Price said. "This is purely off the record on my part."

"Orexis," Phayne said. "How is the Holy Father these days? Is he well?"

"As well as an Arrancar his age can be," Orexis said, smiling. "But I fear that the journey to Las Noches may be ill on his health."

"Well, let's hope that the journey won't be too hard on his health," Corrin said. "But if the journey proves to be too much for him, then let's hope that whoever is blessed with the Crystal Tiara will be a shining example of righteousness and lead the flock into a new time."

"I'm sure he will," Orexis said, winking at Phayne. Phayne raised his glass.

"Lord Parros," Phayne said. "I understand that you wish a position in Fauvre's Noble Council."

"Well, it would be an honor to serve Fauvre to some capacity. My brother, Patros, died in disgrace while serving the Usurper. I would have the name of Parros be respected and not mocked."

"Then perhaps we can come to some agreement," Phayne said. "Corrin, do you think it would be possible to grant Lord Parros a letter of introduction to the Council."

"It can be arranged in exchange for a favor or two," Corrin said.

"Good. What do you think, Lord Parros?"

"That is most gracious, sir."

"Then we're agreed."

"We're agreed," Jean said.

"We're agreed," Orexis and Elyssia echoed.

"Good. Then let's toast our arrangement. Oh, and here comes dessert."

 **End of Chapter 5**

 **Encyclopedia Imperium:**

 **House Andjo:** _The name Andjo predates the Kings of Day and were known as "The Evil Lilies" due to the legacy of Conchita Andjo who is known as "The Sinful Eater". During her reign Conchita Andjo was known to invite her enemies to feasts where the flesh of their kin were served in meat pies or as roasts and, over time, had developed an appetite for "sinful foods". During the conquest of Artur the Conqueror the only monarch who was said to have struck fear into the hearts of the great conqueror was Damir Andjo, known as "The King of Blood" who favored impalement as a means of executing his enemies. When Artur the Conqueror reached to borders to Andjo lands he was greeted by "a forest of writhing bodies and carrion", the sight of which caused him to turn back. It wasn't until Queen Bella Andjo married King Artur II that the eastern nations of Flaura, Verra, and Avrau were brought into the Empire and became the province Fauvre. After the fall of the Kings of Day, Maurie Andjo declared Fauvre to be independent and Maurie Andjo was crowned the first Twilight Queen. The nation of Fauvre lasted for four centuries before it was once again brought into the Empire when Isabelle Andjo married King Henri Leonisra, the first Leonisran monarch. During the tumultuous reign of King Gaellan Leonisra Chancellor Sciarra Andjo saw an opportunity to gain further power for House Andjo and laid siege to Rhona, the center of The Faith. When the Capataz of the time, Callio IV, came out in order to render a declaration of excommunication Sciarra was said to have struck the old Capataz with such force that the Crystal Tiara shattered from the impact. From that time the Holy See has since been located in the city of Avianne, the capital city of Fauvre, with House Andjo pulling the religious-political strings. However, the firm hold that House Andjo had on the Faith was undermined by the growing influence of the Guilds centered in the province of Lucca._

 _Sigil:_ _three gold lilies on a purple field_

 _Words:_ _Growing in Majesty_

 _Alliances:_ _House Leonisra (through marriage), House Marceaux (through treaty), The Illuminated Faith (through treaty)_

 _Banners:_ _House Parros and their banners, House Tu Odelschwank and their banners, Hosue Corrin and their banners_

 **A.N.: I would like to thank SapphireTou for letting me use her O.C. Luna Tristao and the location of El Esmeralda. I hope that I've at least done justice for them for their debut in this story.**

 **The province of Fauvre is largely based on pre-Revolution France. The Andjo palace is inspired by the palace at Versailles with the livery modeled after the clothing from the same period in European history. Most of the Fauvre nobles prefer clothing modeled after 18** **th** **century garb and Rococo style artwork. The neighboring province of Lucca, however, is based more on Medieval Italy, especially Florence and Venice.**

 **The Quincy, however, are based more on the German Empire and Prussia under the reign of Kaiser Wilhelm II (1888-1918). The Quincy, however, is divided between those who are loyal to the Kaiser and those who are loyal to Juha Bach in Vandenreich (which is the Quincy equivalent of the isolationist Seireitei for the Reapers). The majority of the Quincy, fortunately, are loyal to the Kaiser as they see it in their best interest to maintain friendly ties with the Reapers and Arrancars to maintain their wealth and prestige.**

 **Further Recommended Reading:**

 _ **The 48 Laws of Power**_ **by Robert Greene**


	7. Part 1, Chapter 6: The Disgraced Empress

**Blood on the Sand**

 **Volume 1: The Broken Crown**

 **Chapter 6: The Disgraced Empress**

"Baraggan Luisenbarn is dead."

Mahaut Luisenbarn raised her brilliant green eyes slightly to look at her host and took another sip of tea. Chancellor Angello Rureaux sighed as he placed the letter in front of her. She barely registered the white wax seal displaying the crescent of Las Noches.

Mahaut was tall and thin, her platinum blonde hair was made up into a bun. Moonlight twinkled on the diamonds that decorated the twin silver hairpins that were at the base of the bun. She was clad in a long black dress with ornate designs embroidered with silver and green thread around the neckline and down the right side. Her mask fragment resembled a choker with diamond-like bone protrusions

"Grandfather's dead?"

She turned her attention to her grandson, Edaan Luisenbarn. He was broad-chested, like his grandfather and father, but tall like his mother. His strawberry-blonde hair hung over his shoulders, held in place by his mask fragment that resembled a circlet with small spikes protruding at regular intervals, the mask fragment of the heir-designate of an imperial throne. She noticed that the muscle on his sturdy frame was starting to give way to fat at around his waist. Mahaut found it unfortunate that instead of an air of majesty he radiated an air of entitlement and petulance, qualities that could hinder his claim.

"Grandmother, does this mean that I can finally return to Las Noches and claim what is rightfully mine?"

"There are other things that need to be taken in consideration," Angello Rureaux said. He looked at Mahaut with his heavily hooded dark-honey eyes. Mahaut tried to read his thoughts, but Angello's long years made him an expert at concealing his true intentions. "Your grandfather lost the throne to a usurper and there are those who do not want another Luisenbarn to sit on the throne."

"Grandmother, it is my right to…"

Mahaut raised a bony finger and Edaan fell silent. Mahaut tapped the nightwood table to the beat of a song in her head. Edaan snarled a little and looked at Angello who only took another sip of his tea.

"I am the eldest male heir in direct descent of Baraggan Luisenbarn. It is my duty to avenge my father's murder and…"

"Your father was a damn fool," Mahaut said. "He thought he could replicate his uncle's uprising and escape unharmed. The only reason why Mordrath was able to succeed was because the Usurper was unprepared. When your father tried to retake the throne, the Usurper was prepared and had the loyalty of his Espada."

"I know that mother. But the time has come for me to…"

Mahaut raised her finger again and Edaan fell silent. She had taught him well to obey even the slightest glare from her.

"We need to bide our time, Edaan," she said. "We need to introduce you at the right time." She took up the letter and read it. She bit her lower lip, as was her wont when in thought.

"You'll need allies," Angello said. He picked up the white silk handkerchief next to his cup and wiped away a thin tendril of dark green spittle that began to drool out of a corner of his mouth. "Have you given further thought to my suggestion?"

"Will he agree to it?"

"Barrcae is impulsive, he'll agree. However, I want to know if she'll agree."

"She better," Edaan said. "It's her duty."

"She'll agree," Mahaut said, smiling. "She may still be young but she knows her purpose."

"Has she even bled yet?"

"Does it matter? She has a slit between her legs, not a pole," Mahaut said. "She's old enough to consummate the marriage."

Angello nodded and smiled. "Then I should welcome you to the family. But I would like to speak to Aellana on this matter first. I would feel easier if we're all on the same page."

"I don't see why you need her approval," Edaan said. "My sister's only purpose is to guarantee a necessary alliance through marriage."

Mahaut grimaced slightly.

 _He sounds too much like Baraggan,_ she thought.

"Very well, but only if you can guarantee her answer will be 'yes'," Mahaut said. "Lie about it if you have to. After all, her life is not her own. Her life is for the Empire's security."

Angello frowned slightly, but only inclined his head slightly in agreement.

 _ **Aellana Luisenbarn**_

Aellana Luisenbarn, granddaughter of the dead Emperor Baraggan Luisenbarn, sat on a stone bench carved with vipers winding up the bench legs. She appeared to be a girl of twelve years clad in a white gown richly embroidered with silver thread and decorated with pearls at the waist. Her tiara-like mask fragment glittered as though it held diamonds in the moonlight. Her honey-colored hair was tied back in a long braid with a silvery-blue silk ribbon intertwined with the hair. She stroked the small Hollow cat laying on her lap.

"You're such a pretty kitty, Blanca," she cooed. The cat's ears twitched slightly at the sound of her name and Aellana smiled.

The sound of footsteps caught her attention and Aellana looked up. A tall, dark-skinned woman clad in a blood-red uniform with gold viper armlets twining up her forearms walked towards her. The woman's head was shaved except for a strip of crimson hair that travelled up the center of her head and a horse's tail held in place by a gold ring. Twin daggers hung at her sides while a whip was draped across her chest.

"There you are, little princess," she said, smiling, but her tone betrayed her distaste at the words.

"Annat," the girl said as she stood, hugging the cat to her chest. The cat began to struggle to get free and she began to stroke its fur. The cat calmed down and began to purr. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to fetch you. Why else would I bother being here?"

"I…I don't know," Aellana said, casting her eyes downward.

"Well, come on. Let's go."

"But…why?"

"Because my grandfather wants to see you for some reason. Now come on, little princess. Be a good girl and don't make me drag you."

Before Aellana could respond, Annat Rureaux grabbed her by the arm. Aellana let out a startled cry and Blanca struggled to get free of her grip. Annat looked at the cat and snarled.

"Get rid of that filthy thing before I get rid of it for you."

"But, Blanca's…"

"I don't want to hear your excuses, little princess. Chancellor Rureaux summoned you, not that filthy creature. Besides, I hate cats," she muttered.

"But, Blanca gets anxious when I'm not around."

Annat rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth. Aellana recoiled slightly out of instinct and Annat's grip tightened even further. Aellana could feel her arm going numb. She could tell that Annat was becoming angry and the smile that came on Annat's face only intensified her fear.

"Don't be such a pain in my ass, little princess.

"What's going on, Annat? Grandfather's getting impatient."

Annat released Aellana's arm. Aellana's face brightened when she saw the tall, dark-skinned woman with light blue hair coming towards them. The woman was clad in a lilac habesha dress with dark crimson trim embroidered with gold vipers. Her long nails were lacquered dark blue. A jeweled ceremonial dagger with a handle of two intertwining gold vipers hung at her waist from a gold chain.

"MAAT!" Aellana shouted, smiling.

"Oh, there you are, Aellana," Maat said, smiling. She looked at Annat. "Why are there tears in her eyes?"

"She was being a troublesome little brat," Annat said. "I came to get her and she wouldn't come."

"She didn't want me to take Blanca with me, and then she said that she would get rid of her."

"Annat," Maat sighed and shook her head. "Honestly, you have little tact."

"What did you want me to do, sister, let her take that beast with her and embarrass herself."

"Annat, it's just a cat." Maat returned her attention to Aellana and knelt before her. "Aellana, would you like me to take Blanca to your chambers? I can keep an eye on her for you until you get back from your meeting. Is that alright?"

Aellana thought for a moment and nodded. Maat smiled as she held out her hands to receive the cat. Aellana kissed it on the top of its white-furred head and handed it to Maat. The cat did not struggle and blinked slowly as it looked into Maat's eyes and began to purr. Maat returned the blink and held the cat close to her.

"Come along now," Annat said and grabbed Aellana's hand. Aellana winced at the harsh grip, but followed obediently. She knew that once Annat grabbed hold with her iron grip there was no escape. Annat could grab all of the devils and monsters in the worlds and never let them go no matter how hard they struggled or how sharp their fangs were.

They walked in silence for a time before Aellana spoke.

"What does Chancellor Rureaux want with me?"

"How in all of the hells am I supposed to know? He didn't tell me, but it must be important seeing as how he sent me to fetch you. At least, it better be important," Annat grumbled. "I could be out hunting right now."

"I'm sorry."

"You better be. You think that you're so special, little princess. Well, guess what, you're not. The only thing important about you is your maidenhead and once that's gone you're just another weak female."

"But…aren't you a female?"

Annat scowled at her and sighed. "I was born a female, true, but there are areas in Hueco Mundo where being a female only holds you back. Some places are more progressive than that, but the patriarchy still holds in others places. You'll learn that being a female is an invisible chain that some will use to hold you back. You must never let them grab hold of that chain. You must never permit yourself to become someone else's slave. It's better to kill yourself than to let that happen."

Annat stopped as if realizing what she said and let out a soft snort of laughter.

"Forget what I said. You don't have the luxury of determining your fate. Maybe that's why I loathe you."

"You…hate me?"

"Don't be foolish. I said that I loathe you, not hate you. There's a difference."

"I thought they both meant the same thing."

"Maybe for most, but for me there's a difference. I kill what I hate, but I prefer to keep what I loathe around. You're still young, but when you've seen things then perhaps you'll understand."

They continued through the lush night garden, passing a large fountain with statues of naked Terrans, Quincies, Arrancars, and Reapers being tormented by horned vipers that bit into stony flesh. Annat paused to look at the statue and smiled.

"I hope that grandfather sends me out so that I can dig my fangs into something."

"Is that what Shiiva's doing? It's been a while since I've seen her."

"Shiiva's making sure that a few shrouds get used," Annat replied, smiling. "I wish that grandfather would send me out instead of having to babysit you. But, he's the Chancellor and I have to obey."

"When will she be back?"

"How in all of the twelve hells am I supposed to know that? I'm not a fortune teller. Now stop dawdling and come along."

 _ **Angello Rureaux**_

Angello Rureaux watched the migrating group of Menos Grande in the distance. He had seen many such groups as they searched for a place to become Arrancars and knew that most of the group, if not all, would fail. He ran a hand over his bald head, the last of his dark hair had long since fallen out. His mask fragment was a single bony eye in the center of his forehead, an eye that moved and saw much.

He was clad in a long dark double-breasted red coat with black vipers winding up the arms to face each other on either side of his throat. Golden lanyards were draped over his shoulders, making him look like the great general that he used to be in his youth.

 _How much longer must I go on? How much more death must I witness? How many more times must I commit atrocities for my House?_

He was the longest serving Chancellor in Hueco Mundo and was the only one left who held power and survived the Dance of Daggers, a time when assassins and ambassadors had more power than even the Emperor in the affairs of Arrancars and the fate of entire nations. He killed his foes and friends alike in order to survive the shifts of power. He survived more assassination attempts and battles than any other Arrancar. The commoners came to believe that Death could not lay claim on him or that he was Death incarnate. As a result he was called "The Necromancer".

Even though his sons were relative disappointments and his grandson, Zommari, had decided to surrender his freedom in order to accept the chains of the Usurper, Angello Rureaux was widely respected and feared. He knew where he stood with the other Chancellors of the five southern-most provinces. Chancellor Lorros would side with him immediately. Chancellor Rosa would take some convincing, but if he could persuade her to join their fight then she could be able to get the Amazonian tribes of the grasslands and the river valleys to fight behind her. That would mean keeping his alliance with House Mauvant and the Assembly of Arrosian Nations secret so that he wouldn't have to lose the supply of wealth coming from the colonies on the northern coastlines of Aaros, the continent to the south.

A bought of coughing overtook the old Arrancar. His cough was wet and deep. He took out a dark green handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped at his purplish lips. He looked at the green spittle and could see a little bit of blood mixed with the pus. Angello smiled as he folded the handkerchief to conceal the mess and returned it to his coat's pocket.

 _I suppose it's only right that I suffer for my sins in some way._

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He listened to the wind howling across the plains far below. His hand caressed the hilt of the Mameluke sword by his chair, its pommel was shaped like the head of a horned viper decorated with three eyes, two of rubies and the third of a single diamond.

He placed his right hand on a small wrapped object on the small table in front of him.

He kept his eyes closed as the sound of footsteps approached. He long since discovered that each footstep was like a fingerprint: unique to each individual. Even the footsteps of marching soldiers were never really in tangent. Each individual had their own rhythm and manner of weight distribution and no matter how hard you tried to get them to blend together, the careful listener could distinguish each individual.

His third eye opened and he could read the colors surrounding the two figures.

"Thank you for bringing her, Annat. And please, don't be so angry with her. She's merely a yearling."

He could see the colors around Annat's stiffening figure swirling together to form thin tendrils of black. The black then faded back to her usual shades of red and orange with spots of gold. The colors around Aellana's smaller figure became tinged with the dark pink of embarrassment in an otherwise ring of light blue and silver.

"Of course, Chancellor," Annat said. "Is there anything else you require of me?"

"Not at the moment," Angello said. "You may leave. I wish to speak with Lady Luisenbarn alone."

Annat only bowed and left the two. Angello gestured for Aellana to sit across from him. Aellana hesitated for a moment, but sat down. Angello pushed the small wrapped object towards her.

"I got you something."

Aellana looked at the gift. Her eyes widened slightly and she took it. Her hands trembled slightly and she looked at the old Arrancar. He could see the gratitude in them.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She tore the wrapping paper and looked at the box. She was curious about the diamond logo on the front.

"It's from Terra."

"Terra," she whispered, relishing the word. She opened it and looked at the necklace inside. The gold shone in the moonlight and the laurel pendant gleamed icy white and dark green from the chips of emeralds and diamonds. "This must have cost you a lot."

Angello shrugged and brought out a small book he had in his jacket.

"I got you something else. Don't tell your grandmother."

Aellana put the necklace aside and reached for the book. Her hands trembled even more as she took it. She looked at the title: _The Snow Queen and Other Tales_. Her face beamed.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome. I know that you have an unmasking day coming up and so I wanted to make sure to get you something you would like. Most unmasking day celebrations can be tedious and the guests never get you want you really want."

Aellana paused and bit her lower lip. She placed the book down.

"I know that you didn't summon me just to wish me a happy unmasking day. You've never asked to see me in private before."

Angello didn't respond immediately. The silence between them was as heavy as a mountain. Angello looked out towards the Menos Grande.

"Look at them. Tell me what you think about them."

"I…I don't know. They're big and they're savage."

"Yet they have the potential to evolve. Given enough time they can become Arrancars like us. And the result can either be adapted into a House, as what happened with the former Espada Grimmjow or they can found a noble house, as what happened with House Lindocruz. Either way, evolution determines success or failure."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"I suppose you don't. You're young, you've only just broken the mask you were born with. In that regard you are fortunate. You don't need to evolve in that way, but evolution is still required."

Aellana mulled over Angello's words in her mind. "You're talking about my duty to my family."

"And the Empire," Angello said. "Your brother is the rightful heir to Baraggan's throne, but he cannot secure it on his own. He requires assistance."

"You mean, me."

"I do. And there is a way. He needs to secure some of the provinces in order to secure a claim. I am in a position to make that happen. Do you know why?"

"It's because you're Chancellor."

"That's part of it. I may be Chancellor of one of the southern provinces, but Chancellor Lorros and Chancellor Rosa will follow my lead. The Amazonian tribes will hesitate, insisting on remaining neutral, at first. Chancellor Rosa has her connections with them and they in turn will fight beneath the Horned Viper if she gets them to agree. The south-western provinces have the bandits from the wastes to deal with and so they may not be helpful. Of course, I cannot give my full support without careful consideration or just cause. The support of the southern provinces do not come cheap."

He looked at Aellana and could tell that she was thinking. Her small upper teeth dug into her lower lip. She looked at him and he could see the wheels of her mind turning. He smiled a little bit at the knowledge that even though she was young she knew what he would suggest.

"You want me to marry into your family. I suppose that means marrying your son, Barrcae. Am I right?"

"That's right. You may be young, but you are clever when you want to be. Too bad you're not that way around Annat."

"Why? Why should I marry your son? You gave my brother and me sanctuary without reason, so why…?"

Angello reached out and grabbed Aellana's shoulder. Aellana flinched and saw the rage in Angello's eyes.

"Sanctuary is not the same as alliance," Angello said. "And your grandmother had to pay a heavy price in order to receive sanctuary here."

"What did she…?"

"That is not your concern," Angello said as he released her. He smiled at her and the rage in his eyes was gone. "Now, it is time for your first lesson with me."

"What?"

"You are to marry into a Major House, and doing so will demand certain responsibilities. So, your first lesson is that nothing comes free. Everything has a price. You must learn this if you want to thrive."

"Nothing comes free; everything has a price," she repeated.

"That includes life. Life demands sacrifice from all of us. We cannot go chasing our desires without consideration of the consequences. That will be especially true for you. All that you can do is to be patient and endure having to deny your desires. If you're patient then you can rise higher than any of the others who will try to take what belongs to you."

"What are you saying?"

Angello smiled. "This is your next lesson: patience rewards the tenacious. So, be patient and wait."

 _ **Aellana Luisenbarn**_

Aellana clutched her gifts close to her. She knew that she would be required to wear the necklace at the announcement celebration to take place, but she didn't care for it. A necklace was too much like a chain and an engagement token was too much like a lock without a key. She stood for a moment and looked at the crescent moon in the night sky and wondered what it would be like to escape into the endless night.

She wondered if she should just climb to the top of the walls and fling herself into the grasslands beyond.

She knew that she was young, but she knew what being a Luisenbarn required her to be. Her grandmother and mother made sure that she knew her role, a mere pawn to be traded in favor of wealth and status and power. While most daughters of the nobility eagerly awaited their marriage arrangements to wealthy and handsome lords, she dreaded it.

 _A pawn can become a queen._ That had been her mother's favorite saying, one that she would tell her over and over again before she decided to go with her father on his failed mission to reclaim Las Noches from the Usurper. Her mother died in the conflict and her father had been hunted down and killed.

 _Nnoitora Gilga and Nelliel Tu Odelschwank are the guilty ones,_ her grandmother told her and her brother. _When we reclaim what is ours they will pay for their crime. They will be executed for killing their rightful Emperor._

There were other names as well on her grandmother's list of traitors. She and her brother were made to write their names in order to have them engraved in their minds. Their "Execution List", as their grandmother referred to it, included the names of families both high and low. But with the Usurper's failed war over she didn't know how many of those Arrancars remained to be executed for their treason.

"So, how did it go?"

Aellana looked up and saw Maat sitting on a stone bench reading.

"Chancellor Rureaux gave me a couple of gifts."

Maat looked up and closed the book she was reading. Aellana saw that it was a copy of _The Legacy of Queen Arteriia_ by the Arrancar historian Vaadria Kufang.

"I see. Did he talk to you about what they were for?"

"Yes."

"Did he give you good advice?"

"He told me to be patient and everything has a price."

"Sound advice. I would heed it."

"Maat."

"What is it, child?"

"What's Barrcae like?"

Maat closed her book and looked at Aellana. Aellana hoped that her body and eyes did not betray the fear she felt. She had only met the heir to House Rureaux twice, and even then only briefly. She vaguely remembered a male Arrancar, dark-skinned like the rest of the Rureaux family, with amber eyes like those of a basilisk. She was certain that he was tall and powerfully-built, as if made of iron instead of flesh and blood.

"Why are you asking about him?" Maat asked.

"I…"

Maat raised a hand and smiled. There was nothing warm about her smile. "I think I know why you're asking."

"It's my duty," Aellana whispered.

"It's the duty of all women born to nobility. I was pledged myself, until my betrothed met with an unfortunate…accident."

Aellana felt uneasy about the pause and the way Maat's eyes sparkled. Maat laughed a little bit, a musical laugh that held a hint of malice beneath the melody. She patted the seat next to her and Aellana sat down.

"It's not easy being a noblewoman. I'm sure that the Chancellor told you that."

Aellana nodded. Maat pulled the young Arrancar close to her and began to stroke the top of her head.

"Things will be alright. Barrcae spends most of his time away, fighting our enemies."

"That doesn't tell me much."

"No, I suppose it doesn't. I don't know how much I should share with you, except that he's strong and brave and he'll take care of you. He's proud and doesn't dishonor his family's name. He does his duty. Basically the same things that every young Arrancar girl is told about their betrothed."

"Would that be a lie?"

"It's all that you need to know. At least that's the common understanding. I will tell you this much about Barrcae: he's brutal when he needs to be. Many who dared to cross House Rureaux and their allies have suffered his brutality. Don't do anything to warrant his brutality."

Aellana thought of Maat's words as she made her way to her chamber. She longed for the simpler time of when she was still masked. She and Vallae Lorros, Chancellor Lorros's young daughter, would get together and play and share each other's secrets as they lay in bed. Then came the Unmasking and everything changed. Vallae, who had been unmasked with her, looked at her differently, as though a great gulf had sprung up between them. Gone was the time of play and secrets and laughter. Now came the time of responsibilities and the sacrifices they demanded.

The knowledge that she would marry Barrcae Rureaux in order to help secure her brother's claim weighed heavily on her. It was not the first time that she felt the weight, but it was the first time that the realization that it was a burden that she alone could carry came upon her. She felt a tear well in her eye and she began to sing:

 _The princess stood alone atop a high tower_

 _Staring o'er field and plain from her gilded cage_

 _Waiting for her prince to come_

 _When she saw his banners riding on the wind_

 _She flew to her freedom on the stones below._

When she got to her chambers Blanca was curled on her bed, purring. Aellana put her gifts on the small dresser and looked at the collection of necklaces and tiaras and perfumes. The sight of the jewelry made her feel only more alone and vulnerable. She hated them.

She grabbed the book that Angello gave her and got on the bed. Blanca stirred slightly and opened an eye. The cat gave a look that seemed to say "Oh, it's just you" before the eye closed and the cat went back to sleep.

Blanca smiled and began to read. Before long she was crying, the book forgotten on the floor.

 _ **Mahaut Luisenbarn**_

Mahaut sat alone listening to a music box melody at the vanity in her private chamber. The reflection in the gold-etched mirror in front of her showed a woman beginning to show signs of age around her eyes. She clutched at a handkerchief displaying a golden skull crowned by a laurel of silver roses and daggers. It had been a marriage gift from her father when she married Baraggan. She thought that he loved her, but in the end it had been a marriage of convenience. She had given him a son and heir, but his thanks had been to humiliate her and chase after Tia Harribel, a Vasto Lorde who had not even been properly Arrancarized.

 _Now they're gone,_ she thought, smiling. _Baraggan, you were a fool. You ignored your own family and the other provinces for the sake of the illusion that you created for yourself. You grew so complacent and impotent that you did not see that your crown was in jeopardy long before Aizen came along._

Now the crown was in contention and if it wasn't resolved soon then the power vacuum beginning to form would solidify and tear the Empire asunder. If that happened then the noble Houses would find their positions to mean nothing. She knew that most of the noble Houses would try to hold on to any semblance of security and power at any cost, even if it meant cow-towing to the Guilds, the only ones who were certain to profit from the coming chaos.

She figured that House Leonisra, through House Marceaux, would stake a claim as they had the most to lose and gain. The opportunity would be too good for them to pass up and she was prepared to trigger the machinations she put in place to trap them. She wondered which other houses would rise to lay claim to the imperial crown.

 _House Starrk has a legitimate claim, but I doubt Lupos would invoke it. He's too attached to his province to want to run an empire. House Andjo could take advantage of the situation and have some of the Eastern provinces secede. If he does then perhaps I can use my agents in the Faith to undermine his authority._

She bit her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Her mind raced through all of the possibilities and the machinations that she had long put into place. She could see any number of lords and chancellors as possible rivals, but it would boil down to who really wanted it.

 _Mordrath_ , she thought and bit her lip harder. Fresh blood welled up around her teeth and trickled down her lower lip. _He should have received word of his brother's death by now. So why hasn't he acted? Why hasn't he done me the favor of just dying already? Is he also biding his time or is he just doing this out of spite?_

She hated not knowing and she had never been able to truly read Mordrath. He came across as impulsive and envious, acting purely out of envy and spite. Yet, she knew better. She knew that "Mordrath the Envious" was merely a façade that Mordrath used to his advantage. His rebellion against the Usurper was proof of that. He could have gained the throne and give himself plenty of time to strengthen his hold before Aizen could react. Yet he only took Aizen's precious trinket and retreated into exile.

The Hogyoku's existence was the worst-kept secret in Hueco Mundo. Aizen would have been surprised to find out that most Arrancars outside of Las Noches merely viewed it as little more than a toy with little to no actual value. Even the Arrancars inside Las Noches saw it as a curiosity, but very few of those who served directly under Aizen saw any potential value to it and Mordrath was one of them. But Mordrath made sure that Aizen only saw him eyeing the throne and never the Hogyoku. Aizen proved to be like Baraggan, arrogant and so certain of his own judgment, and only saw the role that Mordrath was playing.

 _Aizen thought that those directly under his eyes were merely his tools. I must respect Mordrath for this at least: he proved that he was nobody's tool._

The mechanisms of her mind turned as she thought of the possibilities that the gathering of the houses could bring and also the pitfalls. She had to tread carefully among some of the houses. Her time as Empress earned her several enemies and when Baraggan shunned her she made even more. Yet she endured while most of her enemies fell by the way-side falling victim to "accidents" and "illness". She knew that, like Mordrath, she was a ruthless survivor and was willing to toss aside anyone who got in her way or proved to be a hindrance to her own life. A lesson that her son learned the hard way. While her son had foolishly charged into Las Noches, expecting to be welcomed back with open arms she had the intelligence and foresight to keep herself and her grand-children away from the fray. When he begged for her to help him, she refused.

 _How many of my enemies remain? Skullak Tuma remains, and perhaps that Gilga spawn that killed my son. Does that Tu Odelschwank bitch remain? Oh, how I would love to cut off her tits and rip out her uterus in place of that Harribel slut. Yes, and those houses that did not come to my aid even though they swore oaths of loyalty to me shall feel my wrath in full. The Guilds will not interfere with me so long as I can offer them something of tangible value for their cooperation._

 _Yes, the practical can save themselves from my fury. But, if I'm to succeed then Mordrath must die. The very fact that he's not dead yet and has been thriving in exile is troublesome. If he can gain a foothold in the Empire then I will have no choice but to kill him. Not just for my sake, but for my grand-children's sake._

Mahaut tapped a bony finger against her temple. She looked down and watched as a drop of blood hit the marble-covered vanity. A smile crept across her lips.

 _First will come the smiles then the blood._

She looked at her reflection in the mirror and saw a blood-stained wraith staring back.

 _In the end, I will remain._

 **End of Chapter 6**

 **Encyclopedia Imperium:**

 **House Rureaux:** _The oldest and most powerful house in the southern provinces of the Hueco Mundo Empire is House Rureaux. Their name goes back to long before the Kings of Day with the earliest reference found in the epic poem "King of Midnight" with the Necromancer-Bruja Llauka Reveau. The first historical reference to House Rureaux is found when Reydan Rureaux, who is called "The Viper King", conquered the city-state of Tibr and forced Queen Aelana Harribel to marry him in order for her family to be spared. The history of the Viper King is surrounded by myth, especially with the birth of his son, Oedus, "The Viper of Sorcery". According to legend, Reydan came across a bruja, a witch and soothsayer, as she bathed in the Moon River. Overcome with lust Reydan raped the bruja who in turn prophesized that "The Son of your lust shall be your bane and shall take your throne and wife." Before he could react the bruja vanished in a cloud of mist. Years later an army led by an Arrancar in a helmet resembling the head of a horned viper came to conquer Reydan's kingdom and fulfilling the bruja's prophecy when Oedus killed Reydan in single combat and raped Reydan's wife during the initial pillaging. House Rureaux ruled over much of the southern nations on the continent as the Viper Kings, but the coming of Artur the Conqueror changed things. The Viper King of the time, Shadaan Rureaux, faced the Conqueror in a forest of giant moon-wood trees. The battle was terrible and the forest was set ablaze by Artur the Conqueror's wyrms. Shadaan Rureaux was burnt alive in what became called, "The Battle of the Burning Moon." His son, Zohaar Rureaux, knew how things stood and so surrendered to the Conqueror. As a reward, House Rureaux was permitted to marry into the royal family and were permitted to retain much of their holdings and granted the title of "Chancellor of the South". Over time, House Rureaux became interested in gaining more economic, rather than political, power. Setting their eyes to the southern continent of Arros, House Rureaux was among the first to send explorers to map the continent's interior. This exploration gave rise to the Assembly of Arrosian Nations, a parliament formed originally of tribal chiefs and station agents, but as Imperial law and customs began to permeate Arrosian culture, the Assembly became solely composed of representatives of the various business interests, especially in regard to Imperial economics with House Rureaux pulling the strings from across the sea._

 _Sigil:_ _a black horned viper on a blood-red field_

 _Words:_ _Beware Our Bite_

 _Alliances:_ _House Lorros, House Rosa (through blood-ties), House Luisenbarn (through marriage), House Mauvant (through trade arrangements), the Assembly of Arrosian Nations (through trade arrangements)_

 **A.N. Throughout much of history marriages were used as political and economic maneuverings with no real thought to such things as compatibility or desire. This was especially the case involving the daughters of nobility and royalty. The notion of princesses being a romantic position in which security is assured does not reflect the reality that princesses faced. The daughters of nobility and royalty were often used as pawns in games of political and economic chess whose sole purpose was to secure a family's fortune. However, some of these "pawns" became masters in their own right as can be seen with Elizabeth I of England and Catherine the Great. Sometimes, these "pawns" threw entire nations into political disarray as was the case with Margaret of Anjou and Cleopatra** **.**

 **Mahaut Luisenbarn has a number of historical influences. Her appearance is partially modeled after a combination of Alexandra of Denmark and Catherine the Great. Her personality is modeled after Mahaut d'Artois in Maurice Druon's** _ **The Accursed Kings**_ **and Joseph Stalin and Margaret of York.**

 **Chapter Character Songs:**

 **Mahaut Luisenbarn: "Castle" and "Control" by Halsey**

 **Edaan Luisenbarn: "King Nothing" by Metallica**

 **Aellana Luisenbarn: "Sis Puella Magica!" by Yuki Kajiura and "Re:Samishi" by Hiroyuki Sawano**

 **Angello Rureaux: "This Old Death" by Ben Nichols**

 **Annat Rureaux: "JINGO JUNGLE" by MYTH & ROID**

 **Maat Rureaux: "Wild Leaves" by Patti Smith**


End file.
